#rather than from one of the books on my shelf/in my drive

[werehamburglar]

i think kinks and fetishes are really interesting. sometimes i get the chance to learn about one that i had only ever really heard referenced and it's just wildly eye-opening. not in an awakening sort of way; more in an "i understand more about people and how varied sexuality can be for each one" sort of way. also, hell yeah, get your rocks off, man. have fun. thumbsup

[anothermaletfwriter]

Soft and Sweet Macademia

Braydon was your typical jock, he loved to workout with his homies and be with his girl. She was Bethany, a nerd. Not that competitive gamer nerd he dreamed of, but rather a bookish one. They met a party and she instantly fell in love with him as he fulfilled the “nerd x jock” trope she had long yearned for.

Today, he was dragged by her to the bookstore for a special promotional event. In the brightly lit modern store that made him regret not bringing his sunglasses inside, a large bright green banner with low quality black bold typography said “Try An Extrasensory Novel today.” There were brightly green bookshelves of new trending books below it. A scent of macadamia nuts punched his nostrils.

“What the fuck?” He sniffed the air like a weirdo, “Do you smell that?”

“I don’t smell anything. The nearest coffee place is on the other side of the mall,” Bethany said, fixing her freshly dyed red hair. She had painted his white bathroom like a crime screen in an attempt to save hundreds of dollars.

“You must have lost your sense of smell then. It’s so pungent.”

“It’s not a spill. There’d be ants crawling all over this place right now.”

“It’s driving me fucking crazy,” Braydon dug his big hands into his scalp, subtly flexing his bicep, which was tightened by his white compression shirt, “I need to find out where it's coming from.”

“Right,” She rolled her dark eyes and flashed an attempted smile, “While you have your Telltale Nut moment, I’m going to the fantasy section. Wanna join me?”

“No. You know I don’t care about that stuff.”

“Are you kidding me?” She looked up at him, only reaching up to his chest. Her eyes ready to kill the muscular jock in front of her. “I play your games with you, watch those movies with you. Is it much to ask wish for my boyfriend to be actually into books I like. Plus dressing in a dark academia style.”

“More like I’m gonna dark macadamia nut in you when we get home after this," From his towering view over the shelf, Bethany walked herself to the other side of the store, her arms crossed. He imagined her annoying grumbling to herself. He knew she wasn’t a perfect fit so why should she assume he was?

The scent intensified as he knelt down on the bottom row of the shelf. His long legs extended far out, acting as a trip hazard for any unfortunate passersby's. While he had expected a spill of someone’s overpriced coffee, the smell lead him to single out a specific book. He swiped it out, brushing through the pages for any soaked spots but he couldn’t find any. The scent seemed to emanate from the entire book itself. He landed back on the cover, which was unappealing and bratty. While the background was a flat color of an obnoxious green, the text was a horror show. It was stretched out and in low quality. It read “Absolute Calculus: Being Open To Changes in Extrema”. It appealed to the jock as he was familiar with the concept of calculus, notably from the math classes he had to take for his finance degree. He believed he was better than the rest of his field as he took harder math classes than them.

Turning to the back, the blurb was soft and easy to the eyes with its soft tropical fruit palette of oranges to greens. It was a self-motivational book. Its main thesis pointed out the ultimate cause of human suffering: simply being unopen to novel things. It included knowledge, lifestyle and even experiences. He needed this

By the time he had flipped to the table of contents, he didn't realize he was getting smaller in height and build. His clothes became oversized on him, resembling more pajamas than a casual attire. While he was repulsed by some of the chapter titles, including accepting your non-het sexuality, he was unable to put the book down. This wasn't him. No matter how hard he pushed on his now dainty fingers, his eyes and hands were glued to the book, turning the multiple pages. He felt himself deflating and shrinking. He noticed that his once mountainous biceps had become nothing but flat plateaus and his impressive set of pecs deflated into a meager chest. He coughed violently as his Adam's apple shrunk, turning his mountainous voice into a soft dainty one.

What the fuck was happening? His soft fingers with nails painted in green flipped to Chapter 4: Self-acceptance is the key to accepting others. He tried to scream for Bethany to help but he didn’t know her. It would be rude to call out a stranger. But that couldn’t be right? That was his girlfriend. No, she was just a random book girl at the same store as him. His experiences of throwing week long benders and sleeping with a carousel of women afterwards faded. They seemed more like videos he had watched online than a lived reality. Visions of conquests of women replaced by men conquering him. The book had converted his heterosexuality into an irreversible total homosexuality. He was no longer the buff jock that sat next to the hot girls so he could be grouped together with them back in college. He was the quiet gay guy that sat in the back of the class, often wooed by the more upfront and passionate gay men that wanted him and his body. His eyes, once clung to women, had shifted its vision to guys. He wasn’t one to be picky, as he liked everything from twinks to hunks and everything in between those two. Even the dad-bod was something that turned him on.

Chapter 12: It’s All Perfect As It Is. With a dizzy head, he finished the book and returned it to the top shelf, struggling to place it even on his tippy toes. Brady felt a quick chill breeze through the room. He dug his hand underneath his oversized fuzzy hoodie and felt the smooth stomach flatten out. His memories of Bethany and her red-hair morphed into a different person. It was another Asian twink, they held their hands together in a cozy apartment and played on their Nintendo Switch. The earthy charcoal cologne he recalled using became sunshine vanilla perfumes that his boyfriend, Jeremy, purchased for his birthday.

The slim twink approached him, hugging him from the behind. Brady was only up to his shoulder. It felt good with his liking to being the little spoon.

“What took you so long, Babe? I looked at ten books while you were just looking at one?” Jeremy chuckled.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. You know I like taking my time with books.”

"Well there's other books in this store, babe," Jeremy teased, bopping Brady's nose.

They checked out the rest of the store, leaving with a few romance books purchased in their pink heart decorated totebag. They bumped into another couple on the way out and briefly apologized to them. He looked at the tall muscular man dressed in his beige jacket and black shirt, wishing that he was also into guys. He whispered to Jeremy about jokingly asking him if he wants to be their 3rd if they see him another time by himself.

Jeremy and Brady cuddled on the couch together, their bag of books untouched on the clean coffee table. Jeremy was always the one to initiate, including a make out session with Brady. Their lips were soft and fruity as they embraced each other with their tongues on their soft couch.

They spent the rest of the day on an impromptu spa night. They applied a green jelly mask, consisting of green tea and aloe vera, to their faces and wore cute soft pink headbands. It was a typical zen they practiced every week. Stress and such can cause more damage than one could imagine. They turned on the TV to watch the adaptation of CardiacPauser, Jeremy and Brady’s favorite series. Before they returned to the couch, they took a picture together in their bathroom, holding each other with their large smiles. It was just them and the rest of the world. This is what he was meant to be and nothing else.

[sun-kissy]

Hi! Can I request James's sister with Sirius, but Sirius for some reason thinks she has a crush on Regulus? Thx I love your page! <3

thank you for the request angel! ♡

date | s.b.

tw: hurt/comfort, teensy bit of jegulus

potter!reader, sirius black x reader

“Potter. Do you think using unicorn’s blood instead would make our potion have a more iridescent colour? Because that’s what Slughorn wants,” Regulus asked dryly, shoving the book towards you and pointing at a paragraph which looked like nothing but muddled words.

You look at the book for a moment before sighing, letting your eyelids flutter closed and leaning back in your chair.

“No idea.”

Your hands come up to rub your eyes, exhaustion overwhelming your senses. Regulus and you had spent the whole day in the library like crazed scholars desperate for a good grade on an assignment.

That was exactly what you were. You had been paired with him for a Potions project, and ever since Professor Slughorn had made a breezy comment about your potion-in-progress, it had been driving the both of you mad. Although you weren’t exactly friends, there was a mutual agreement that doing well on this project was necessary to salvage both your grades.

The past few weeks were a blur - late nights wasted researching in the library and early mornings spent in the Potions classroom.

You groan and sit back up, willing yourself to hear him out and make sense of the lines in front of you. You blink and look up for a second when something, or rather someone, catches your attention. Sirius stands stiffly a few metres away, leaning on a bookshelf and looking over at the two of you.

When you meet his eyes, he quickly averts his gaze and pretends to be browsing the books on the shelf. You immediately sense that something is wrong - Sirius wouldn’t be caught dead in the library. You notice the hard look in his eyes, the subtle look of hurt in his features.

A frown instantly crosses your face. Your friend had been acting weird lately, ever since your lips accidentally crashed onto his at a party - and none of you pulled away.

It was a nice kind of weird, in which he fumbled over his words and his cheeks would get rosy when he talked to you. But ever since you had been swept up into the busyness of the project with Regulus, it was like whatever spark that was set ablaze had been doused out.

Sirius brushed you off every time you tried talking to him, yet you would catch him silently gazing at you in hallways and classes then immediately looking away as soon as eye contact was made. It made you mad, but more than that, it hurt your heart that the one person whom you thought would last forever was starting to drift apart from you.

Your annoyance started to get the better of you, slowly bubbling into anger in your chest. You take a deep breath and slowly stand up, your chair dragging across the floor. “Excuse me for a moment,” you mutter to Regulus, sidling your way around the table.

“Hey,” you make your way over to the bookshelf and stand in front of Sirius. He whips his head around, a false look of surprise on his face.

“Oh, hey Y/N! Didn’t think I would see you here. Anyway, I was just searching for a book for Moony - I should really make my way back now, James wants me to… plan some pranks with him,” he smiles, his lips pressed together. It’s obvious how forced it is.

You open your mouth to tell him your brother was in detention, his blatant lie adding fuel to the fire of irritation in you. But before you even say anything, he turns around to leave.

Anger flares up within you and before you can even think, you’re grabbing his wrist, your fingers wrapping around it with a vice-like grip. “Sirius!” you hiss, so unintentionally loud that Regulus looks up from his books, surprised. You look over at him apologetically.

Sirius turns back around, frowning. “What?” You flinch at the harsh tone, loosening your hold on his wrist but not letting go. You inhale sharply. “Talk to me,” you say, softening. “Please talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on. What do you mean?” he bites back sharply, more hurt than anger in his tone.

“Let me go.” He tries to pull away, but you tighten your grip. “No. Something’s wrong, and you’re not telling me. Why are you ignoring me? What did I do wrong?” you ask, desperation seeping into your voice.

Sirius glares at you for a moment, seeming to be contemplating something. Then he sighs, his anger melting away as he runs a hand down his face.

“Fuck, you-” he gestures with his hands. “You-“ he groans and drops his arms to his sides. “Why do you play with my feelings like this? I thought we had something! I really- really thought we had something,” he mutters, his voice cracking slightly.

You feel your heart break a little. “Sirius,” you coo, moving your hand down to gently hold his. “We do. We do have something. Why would you think we didn’t?”

Upon hearing your words, he turns to you and huffs out a humourless laugh, pulling his hand away. “Really? You really think so? Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen you with Regulus.”

Your blink, your face morphing into one of confusion as you stare dazedly at Sirius.

“Regulus? You think I like Regulus?”

He frowns at you. “Of course. Why else would you be spending so much time with him? It’s like you forgot I even existed.”

The absurdity of his words brings a small smile to your face, and before you know it, you’re pressing the back of your hand to your mouth to stifle your laughter. “Oh my god, no. No way. He’s the most annoying partner I’ve ever had to work with. Why would you think I like him?”

The crease between his eyebrows softens, and you catch a glimpse of relief in his eyes, though he still seems suspicious. “You don’t? Then why have you been spending so much time with him? Going on study dates or whatever? You’re never with me anymore.”

You huff out a sigh, realisation dawning upon you. “For the Potions project, of course. Professor Slughorn said our potion wasn’t up to the mark, so we’ve been working our asses off to fix it. I really need to do well in this to pull my average up. I don’t like your brother, Sirius.”

“Oh,” he breathes out, and you can practically see the tension leave his body. “Oh. Sorry,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

You chuckle lightly. “It’s okay. It’s kind of my fault, I still should have made time for you. But is this why you’ve been ignoring me? You thought I liked Regulus?” you ask bemusedly. He winces and nods sheepishly, earning a laugh from you. “Siri, have you seen the way James looks at him?”

His lips start to curve upwards, his usual playful demeanour coming back to him. “I caught him drooling while looking at Reg once.”

You giggle at that, clearly imagining your brother gazing at Regulus with heart-eyes. Sirius grins back at you, taking your hand.

“So, we’re good?” he asks, intertwining your fingers together.

“More than good.”

“Great. Because I was just about to ask you out to Hogsmeade this Saturday. If you haven’t already got plans with emo boy, of course.”

“Sirius!” you whisper scandalously, trying to sound mad, but a giggle slips out and betrays your amusement. He chuckles, looking over at Regulus who was bent over a stack of papers and furiously scribbling down notes. “You better get back over there if you wanna survive till our date this weekend.”

“Date?” you ask mischievously, raising your eyebrow. “James would approve of that?”

He rolls his eyes at your feigned innocence, one hand on your shoulder as he gently pushes you back towards your table. “I’m pretty sure your brother is too lovesick for my brother to protest against it. So yes, love, it’s a date.”

[beforeweallfell1711]

Moments in Between (Gojo x reader)

Prompt: Injured in battle leads to an emotional confession

Content - first love, kissing, angst, heavy injury, protective, friends to lovers, fluff, cute.

Word count - 3.8k

I· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · Perched on a desk, I had my legs crossed with a book on my lap. Tension flushed my shoulders together as I read through the chapter of a book Yaga had recommended for my technique. I was starting to believe the man intended to frustrate me rather than teach me. 

It had been close to a month and my energy continued to fluctuate. Leaving me defenseless during the most vulnerable times. I shut the book tightly before leaning back against the desk, my hands covering my face, and a deep growl of annoyance echoed through the empty library.  

Without consistent energy flowing through me, my technique was close to useless. Speaking of- my technique stitchmonger allowed me to utilize my energy as threads to manipulate at my will. I can stitch body parts back together injuries, and as of lately, I’ve been able to manipulate others' bodies against their will. “Like corpses,” as Gojo liked to remark when I first experimented.  

Last month, when this all started, I was working on stitching (patching in this example) a ripple in the wall of my dorm room when my energy fluctuated so harshly that I was thrown across the room. I’d landed against my door and bruised my ribs on impact. Gojo and Geto had come to check on me once they heard the crash, but I’d sent them away primarily due to embarrassment.  

I rubbed my eyes before sitting up, “This is driving me crazy.” 

The door squeaked open alerting me to the arrival of the white-haired man that burrowed himself so deeply into my life. With a deep sigh I offered him a halfhearted smile before jumping to my feet and sticking the book where I found it. 

“Nothing?” He walked up behind me, his sunglasses blocking his eyes, but the smirk was ever present. 

“Nothing,” I grumbled while using my finger to trace the backs of the other books. Looking for anything, anything, that could enlighten this shit situation. 

“Want some help?” He raised a perfect eyebrow. 

“You’re offering to help? Willingly?” I raised mine in turn. 

He chuckled, “Geto’s off on a solo mission and Shoko’s busy. You’re the only one left.” 

I nodded while pursing my lips, “I’m your last option it appears.” 

He smiled before shaking his head and inspecting the titles on the shelf across from me, “You’re not anyone's last option. You just happen to be in a library whereas I’d rather be walking around Tokyo and getting up to no good.” 

“Ever so honest, Gojo.” I chuckled before pulling out another book. I skimmed through it quickly before shutting it and sliding it back. 

Gojo furrowed his eyebrows again, “You can read that fast?” 

I sighed as I leaned my back against the shelf, “It’s called skimming. If I can’t find what I’m looking for then I’m not going to waste my time on a dusty book.” 

He shrugged, “I don’t read, so, I wouldn’t know.” 

“Do you happen to know what type of book I’m even looking for? Or is this the first time you’ve seen a book since you were born?” I asked while reaching for another book. 

“I imagine it has to do with what’s got you all depressed and whinny during training. Your energy fluctuates. Happens to everyone.” He came to stand near me, peeking at me over his glasses, “The more you try to solve it, the harder it’ll get to understand.” 

I shut the book momentarily, “So, you’re saying using my brain will make this harder. You want me to be like you? Just wing everything and have unlimited confidence in myself?” 

He poked my forehead, “You get it.” 

I laughed as I swatted his hand away, “Our brains work differently. This isn’t something I can just turn off and wait until later to figure it out. It’s been a month and nothing’s changed.” 

He rubbed his thumb along my forehead, “Yes, but worrying will make these frown lines deepen on such a pretty face. Then, you’ll have more things to stress about. Why don’t we just go on a stroll? You need the fresh air, and I’d like to get out of this school.” 

I sighed as I thought about it some more. I’ve been searching through these books for what felt like hours now and I'd yet to find anything. Yaga had also promised he’d do some digging for me as well. Not to mention, getting some fresh air would do me well. I was beginning to feel like the walls were closing in on me.  

I smiled, “Are you going to pay for my dinner?” 

He smirked, “Don’t I always?” 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · 

After an incredibly eventful afternoon and delicious sushi, we took a taxi back to the school. I had my arms crossed while watching the scenary out the window. I’d always found Tokyo to be so beautiful. City life had been something I dreamed of experiencing as a child. While I wasn’t from the outskirts of town, my mother had grown up in Tokyo before we moved to our smaller town. She’d rave about the nightlife and the things she’d get up to before she met my father. 

I rubbed my hands along my biceps before sighing and stealing a glance at Gojo. He was leaning his head against the window, his eyes closed. He had the softest expression, long lashes and full pink lips. I’d always wondered how someone so beautiful could exist. We often, rarely actually, saw eye to eye. We were so different from each other, but that only motivated me to catch up to him. 

He was extraordinarily powerful and menacing when he wanted to be. Yet whenever I needed someone to listen to my stupid mediocre problems, he always lent an ear. He goes out of his way to make me feel seen and heard. Gifting me small moments like today, where I was clearly minutes away from exploding. He’d seen through the mask I was wearing and managed to get me out of the box I created for myself. 

“You stare any harder and you’re going to burn me,” He whispered as he faced me. His glasses sliding down his nose exposing those brilliant blue eyes. 

I didn’t look away, even when my heart thundered in my chest, “What makes you think I was looking at you?” 

I reached to push his glasses back up, but he caught my hand, “I always know when you’re staring. My superpower. Being extremely aware of what you do.” 

I let him drop out hands to his lap. His fingers caressing my knuckles while I looked for what to say, “Stalker.” 

“Aware.” He shrugged, “We watching a movie when we get back?” 

My face felt hot, “Actually, I’ve been watching a new American drama. If you’d like to watch an episode with me?” 

He looked away with a smile, “Your call, sweetness. I’m yours for the rest of the night.” 

I swallowed drily before chuckling, “I think you’re going to regret saying that.” 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · 

The next day we met with Yaga out in the training yard. The four of us sat on the steps as he paced back and forth, whispering under his breath. He was clearly upset about something, but we all chose to stay quiet until he managed to get his words out. 

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a text from Shoko, who was sitting right beside me. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she nodded at my phone with a smirk. 

Shoko: Am I crazy or is four eyes staring at you hardddddd? 

I cleared my throat and pretended to stretch my neck to glance around until I locked eyes with Gojo. Who was indeed staring at me hard. I offered him an awkward smile before looking back down at my phone. 

Me: You’re not crazy.  

Shoko: What is that about? 

Me: Dissociating? Bored? Idk 

I pocketed my phone and played with my fingers. Gojo and I had watched my American drama last night. Three episodes total before I fell asleep with my head on his chest. While we’ve spent nights together before, last night just felt like there was so much tension. Unspoken words, actions, desires, etc. Whatever it may be, it left me feeling shy around him.  

Yaga finally cleared his throat and faced us, “You three,” He pointed at Gojo, Geto, and me, “are traveling East for a mission. We don’t have enough information, but from what we’ve gathered it might be serious. I need you three to go, take care of business, and return in one piece. Not too hard of an ask. Right, Gojo?”  

“Right,” He answered with a cheeky smirk. 

Yaga sighed, “Geto, you’re in charge. If you need an extended day or so, the safe house will be ready.” 

“Why were you pacing so hard?” I asked, “We don’t even have a file. We’re going in blind. What’re we expecting once we get there?” 

Yaga sighed, “We don’t know. That’s the problem. The windows reported an increase in cursed energy, but nothing has happened yet. We’re sending you as a precaution.” 

Twenty minutes later, we were meeting with the assistant who’d be driving us around for the next few days. I had my duffle bag thrown over my shoulder while I searched my bag to ensure I had everything I needed. Shoko was staying here, meaning if we had any injuries, I wanted to be prepared with an emergency kit. While I searched, a shadow loomed over me. I looked up to see Gojo with a small smile as he took the bag from my shoulders and nodded in the direction of the door. 

“Thank you. I’m just making sure I have everything we’ll need.” I followed behind him before realizing he was matching pace with me.  

“I’m sure you have everything. Geto’s waiting for us, c’mon.”  

“I just can’t find my kit. Ugh, did I leave it in my bathroom?” I groaned while I rubbed my head. 

“No, you left it in my bathroom a few weeks ago when you helped me bandage that cut on my chin. I have it in my duffle.” He offered me a gentle smile. “We’ll be alright.” 

I’d completely forgotten that I left it there. We’d been training in the yard when he eased his infinity at the same moment I was pretending to punch him. The second my knuckles contacted his chin I was apologizing for hours on hours. I forced him into the bathroom where I helped clean his scratch. He’d placed his hands on my hips the entire time while gazing at me. No wonder I forgot, I wasn’t thinking straight! 

I smiled in return and bumped my shoulder against his bicep, “Thank you.” 

“No problem, sweets.” 

We climbed into the back seat with Geto sitting in the middle of us. The drive was long with them making conversation the entire time. I spoke occasionally, but for the most part I was creating scenarios in my head. I swallowed my nerves down. My energy fluctuations had only affected me during training and not a real fight. Yet banking on that would mean leaving me to trust that fate and luck would be on my side, and that made me feel sick to my stomach. 

One mistake is all it would for me to be dead. 

Geto poked my cheek, “You okay?” 

I poked his shoulder, “Thinking.” 

“I can tell,” He chuckled, “I’m hoping it’s nothing serious and we can get back in no time. I don’t want to share a small space with Satoru more than I need to.” 

I laughed, “I’m sure it’s not bad.” 

“He kicked in his sleep. Well, when he sleeps, I should say.” 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · 

We arrived at the abandoned warehouse a few hours later. Lightning and thunder crackled above us, the rain coating us in heavy and thick pelts, and soon we were drenched. A veil formed around us while we entered through the broken doors. I tested one of the light switches to my right. The light flickered before it sparked and exploded.  

“Lovely,” I murmured under my breath. 

“You afraid of the dark?” A voice whispered to my left. 

I turned slightly to find Gojo leaning down slightly and smirking, “Not at all.” I whispered in return. I noticed how close we stood but chose to stay put. I could feel his breath tickling the back of my neck, tickling it slightly. 

“Let’s split up and cover ground. I don’t think we’ll find anything, but the cursed energy is definitely emanating from this place. Be careful.” Geto nodded at us before departing in one direction. 

“Up or down?” Gojo asked while backing up by a centimeter, our shoes were still touching. 

“I’ll go upstairs.” I pushed my wet hair behind my ears. 

He nodded as I turned to walk away from him. A second later he cupped my elbow to stop me, “Be safe.” 

I swallowed, “You too.” It came out a lot breathier than I anticipated. 

I walked up the creaky, molded steps while searching for any residuals. I looked through most of the upstairs section without any success. There were multiple empty rooms full of destroyed furniture, or what appeared to be small campsites for people looking for shelter. One of the rooms contained tents, cooking materials, and items to start a fire. Yet I hadn’t heard a single person move. 

I pulled out my phone to use my flashlight when movement in the corner of the room caught my eye, “Stop!” I called out. 

A small boy flinched, “Are you real?” he trembled. He only wore a t-shirt and shorts, no socks or shoes. 

I kneeled near him, “Of course, I’m real. Are you here alone?” 

He nodded, “I can’t find my family. Will you help me?” 

“Where did they go?” I asked while reaching out my hand. 

He clasped it tightly, “They went to find some food, but that was days ago.” 

“We need to get you to a shelter. What’s your name?” We walked past the door before the little boy stopped frozen in place. 

“Do-do you see-see that, too?” He pointed with his free hand. 

I immediately shoved his body behind me as I took in the creature. Long, slim body. It’s massive head handing over its right shoulder, bulging eyes, and sharp teeth. Its claws dug into the ground to support its uneven body. A growl, quiet but deadly, escaped its throat once it caught sight of us. 

“Hide,” I whispered to the boy, “I’ll handle this.” 

The boy ran back into the room. Not a moment too soon considering the second he stepped foot through the door, the creature attacked. Its large claws swinging viciously and ruthlessly. It aimed at my ribs and stomach multiple times. I barely managed to avoid them in such a tight space. With the lightning being my only light source, I depended heavily on my ability to sense its cursed energy. 

With the unfamiliar environment, I made the mistake of favoring one side of the hallway too much rather than staying neutral. It attacked my left knee, scratching a long, vertical cut that reached my mid-thigh. I hissed before jumping back. 

“Don’t hurt her!” The little boy cried. 

“It’s okay,” I gasped as the blood continued to gush. I intertwined my fingers together as I activated one of my techniques, “Stitchmonger: Emergency Reconstruction.” Light, soft and warm, eased from my hands as the threads attacked and stitched my leg back together. I flexed my leg before returning to my fighting stance. My cursed energy was cycling just fine. I just needed to create an opening for myself. 

I pulled my double edge knife from my boot and fought for space. Once I created that distance, I activated my technique, creating threads to hold the creature in place. I tightened the threads before using my knife to exercise it. I breathed heavily as its body faded away.  

I ran back into the room, “Are you okay?” I called out to the boy. 

“WATCH OUT!” He screamed. 

I turned, with my arms up in a defensive stance, when a similar curse appeared. It screeched before swinging its claws and digging them into my forearms. It ripped one out and dug it into my calves, sweeping me off my feet and dragging me to another room before I could blink. 

I was screaming, trashing, but my body was not reacting the way I needed it to. The curse retracted its claws before leaving me in the center of a freezing room. I was trembling in pain, a pool of my own blood was forming around me, and I couldn’t move my arms to activate my technique. 

I attempted to control my breathing. Where was my phone? How can I call for backup? Where were Gojo and Geto? Had they heard me scream? 

The curse reappeared, dragging its claws on the ground, before standing before me. Its bulging eyes moved rapidly as it observed my trembling body. A growl of glee escaped its deformed mouth. I tried again to lift my hands, but I could no longer feel anything below my elbow. I cried out as it dug a singular claw into my shoulder blade, “Stop!” I screamed. 

Was it...was it playing with me? As if I were its prey and it the hunter? 

Heavy footsteps sounded down the hallway. I blinked and the curse was gone. Splattered against the walls before turning to smoke and disappearing. The veil outside disappeared as Gojo’s worried expression came to view. 

“No,no,no,” he muttered rapidly with a shake of his head, “SUGURU! HERE!” 

“I can’t,” I whimpered, “feel my arms.” 

He seemed like he couldn’t decide where to put his hands to stop the bleeding, “You’re going to be okay, baby. You keep breathing.” 

I wheezed, “Satoru. I can’t feel anything right now.” 

His gaze turned stern, “I need you to keep breathing. You’ll feel something soon.” 

Geto ran into the room, his face pale, “Shit.” 

“We need to get her to a hospital.” 

“I’ll call Yaga. You take her to the car, go!” 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · 

I woke up to monitors, bright lights, and the smell of bleach. I felt my eyes water once I managed to move my hands. Relief washed over me so harshly I began to sob. Without my hands, I would never manage my technique again. I lifted them gently to inspect the scars I knew would be there. Long stitches ranged from the inside of my elbow down to my wrists.  

I wiped the tears away when I noticed the oxygen tubes. I looked around the hospital room slowly, Gojo was staring out the window with his arms crossed and his back to me. I knew that he knew I was awake. 

“Hey,” I whispered. 

He swallowed before making his way to me. His glasses were gone, and I could see the dark bags under his eyes. My right hand lifted to tenderly touch them, “I’m breathing and feeling something. Like you said.” 

He leaned into my hand with a deep exhale, “I was so worried,” he murmured, “we barely managed to escape the rain and find a hospital that could treat your injuries.” 

Gojo lifted a hand to push away the hairs on my face, “I told you to be safe. You never listen.” 

I closed my eyes, “I didn’t do it on purpose, if that makes you feel any better.” 

“It doesn’t,” he admitted. 

We sat quietly for a long moment before he whispered, “You have no know how much you mean to me, don’t you?” 

I gasped quietly, “Gojo-” 

“You have to know that I have not been able to sleep or eat since we got to this hospital. The moment I heard you scream...I’ve never moved faster, looked harder, than when I heard you. To think I was almost too late to save you...it drives a knife into my chest.” 

He swallowed deeply, “I can’t fathom the idea of never seeing you smile or laugh again. To experience a day where you are not beside me is not a life I want to live.” 

“Gojo,” I whispered as more tears clouded my vision, “What are you telling me?” 

I needed the extra confirmation. I needed him to say exactly what he wanted. My heart was skyrocketing against my aching ribs. This had to be a hallucination. A side effect from the medication the doctors prescribed. 

“I’m saying that for the last two years I’ve sat comfortably with being your friend. Watching and admiring you from afar but always hoping for more. Hoping that one day I could build the courage to tell you that I’m in love with you. I can’t hide it anymore nor do I want to.” 

I couldn’t believe it. A soft gasp escaped me at his confession, “Gojo,” I scanned his gaze. Too many emotions to decipher, but the truth sat there. The love he’s been expressing in many ways stood there loudly. It called me silly for never noticing before, but it was grateful that I was finally realizing it. 

I scanned his face for a moment longer, “I love you too,” my voice trembled, “I have for a long time, now.” 

He cupped my face with trembling hands, he sighed as he leaned his forehead against my own, “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to confess,” his eyes seemed to sparkle. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” I whispered, caressing his face with my thumbs. 

“Yes,” He swallowed, “I have been dying to kiss you, baby.” 

He titled my head back gently, teasing my lips with his before his mouth finally met mine. He exhaled deeply against me before tilting his head and deepening the kiss. My hand dropped to his chest where his heart thundered as harshly as mine.  

We kissed and kissed until we pulled away for a second and met again. This time, he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. He kissed me like he was afraid he’d never do it again. Like he couldn’t get enough of my taste, just like I couldn’t get enough of him. I needed him closer, I wanted to feel his body on mine. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, he kneeled over my body while rubbing my tongue along my bottom lip. I moaned when one of his hands dropped to my hip and squeezed. 

He pulled back momentarily, “I can keep going, baby, but you also just woke up.” 

“I don’t mind,” I whispered reaching for another kiss. 

“I don’t want to overwhelm you either,” He kissed my forehead, “Take a nap. You need all the rest you can get.” 

------

Part 2?

Thank you for reading :)

[whinlatter]

sorry if you've discussed this before, but do you think ginny's quidditch talent came out of nowhere? it's a common criticism I see about her but I feel like that kind of overstates how much of a quidditch "star" she was at the beginning, like she was consistently described as good but not great until partway into hbp and I also think it makes sense she'd keep it a secret from her teasing brothers. but maybe they're right and I'm just biased towards defending ginny

thank you for the question, anon!

the short answer is - no, i think it's (just about) plausibly rendered in the books. i think the series gets away with it because:

the story is told from the perspective of a teenage boy aka peak obliviousness in corporeal form, so we see what harry sees (and harry notices big fat nothing)

there is an entirely adequate narrative explanation for ginny's sporting skills that most readers not operating in bad faith* can put together, as you suggest: ginny comes from a sporty family who are all good at quidditch; she is of middling-to-good seeking ability when she first joins the team in ootp; she then has a good few months flying several times a week where she would necessarily grow in confidence and experience, leaving her perfectly able to blossom in hbp in a high school sport where she is competing against other children. fine and dandy in my book.

also quidditch is a broadly dumb and pointless plot so ginny being good at it is just a fun extra that we don't need to deep too much because - let's be real - quidditch is a waste of page space.

*i say this because, most of the time, these takes come from those who don't like hinny as a pairing. which is entirely their right and prerogative! it personally doesn't float my boat to spend my days doing worst faith readings of the text in order to make the case against canon ships i don't like, but as this is a race to the bottom - we are all adults dissecting children's books written by a nasty spiteful woman rotting in her mouldy castle spouting slurs, after all - who am i to judge.

(i also suspect the 'ginny is good at quidditch out of nowhere' takes have enjoyed such a long shelf-life on eg. reddit because the films are still most people's primary reference for HP takes so complaints about them then get cast back on the books - and, in the films, ginny does in fact rock up in film 6 like she's mbappé, if mbappé had the charisma of an extraordinarily soggy bath mat.)

with that said... could it have done with a bit more foreshadowing? yes, probably. people who don't like hinny as a pairing and prefer another are never going to be convinced - that's fine! but here i am, a paid-up hinny supporter, and even i think ginny's character development is sometimes wanting, to a frustrating and problematic extent. good writing (usually) means showing not telling, and it's weird and lazy of jkr to be so slapdash about revealing this and other character details about ginny and other (often female) characters. i think it's particularly striking that jkr underserves characters (again, usually women) who exist to serve the emotional development of characters (usually men), rather than the mystery plot(s) that drive hp as a series. (wanted! tonks' personality! last seen making fake pig noses and being the only auror mad eye moody mentored as his successor, for no plot reason!)

while i'm not a die-hard adherent to the chekhov's gun principle, i think one of the strengths of many novels du jour - especially the nothing really happens postmodern novel that crowds the bookshop shelves these days - is that their conventions allow authors to add colour to characters without each tiny detail being pregnant with meaning and in service of a driving plot that must be marched forward at all times. that can be really nice! as readers, we like to get a sense of characters as well-rounded living breathing people who go for a wee and take the bins out and stick on an album because it slaps every now and then; in these novels, we're also happier with the idea that things can happen to characters beyond the protagonist that don't directly impact the plot or demand the protagonist knows more than their own very limited vantage point. you have more room to play with character as a result.

jkr, ofc, isn't that kind of author. jkr is in fact an author for whom everything about her characters serves the plot. this, after all, is the brain that brought you 'remus lupin' the werewolf, and named the bad-guy-turned-good-guy in a book using a big black dog as a red herring omen of death 'sirius black'. jkr wants her audience to notice clues and remember little details about characters because they might be significant later on. this is entirely her wont and - lupin and sirius aside - she's often very good at it. the hp books are all standalone mysteries, and, when they land, those mysteries slap. ginny being the culprit in CoS is a genuinely satisfying resolution to the whodunit plot: this was reflected in critical reception at the time and was part of the reason why hp was able to be marketed as a children's book adults would also enjoy thereafter. there are also very satisfying foreshadowing and mystery plots that straddle the entire series and that reward the reader with reasonably good pay-off at the series end. (my favourite is the foreshadow within the foreshadow - e.g. regulus black barrelling back from ootp in DH, but then regulus' plot turning out to ultimately exist to foreshadow snape's own double agent status... delicious).

for my part, it's also what i want out of the fiction i read and the stories i try to write. i want everything to mean something. i want the weather, clothing, setting, body language etc to all do heavy lifting. i want character work to do work. it makes it fun for me to write and (i hope) it can it a bit more fun for the reader.

the problem is that while jkr is good setting up some mysteries, she is bad at others, and the romantic plot is one she falls down (a bit) on. she sets herself up for this: she wants to be a plot-centred mystery writer, so she does have an obligation to do better in how she deploys character details. jkr does to try to write the harry/ginny romance like a mystery, with little hints throughout the series up to the reveal of harry's feelings for ginny in HBP. (even ginny's full name is nominative determinism, finally revealed in DH once the reader has been told her place in the plot - ginevra, so guinnevre, the hero's queen). and while i will never not tire of pointing out to all of reddit that harry/ginny didn't come out of nowhere, and there is some satisfying foreshadowing knocking about here and there, i think it's fair to say that the harry/ginny build-up is not as satisfying as it could have been because jkr is basically lazier about the clues that ginny is the character harry will ultimately fall for, while she is much better at dropping clues for the series' central plot. that ginny ends the series with no real resolution of the primary tensions that motivate her other than her love of harry is probably the most acute example of this. but there's lots about her character where jkr phones it in a bit in fleshing her out or taking it to any logical conclusions or interesting plot directions. a smattering of examples:

ginny is the character who spends the entire series demanding to be included and not underestimated ends the series... with no real major role in the battle other than causing harry panic, while all other central characters receive a satisfying narrative arc that speaks to their central motivators across the series as a whole. (for an interesting discussion of what should have happened with ginny and the horcruxes, see here. i didn't even pay @saintsenara to write this!)

there are lots of shades of colour to ginny's character that are introduced pointlessly. i have previously talked about my beef with arnold the pygmy puff. we know ginny is popular but we know nothing of her friends who are all faceless plotless nobodies. we know ginny supports the all-womens quidditch team in a way that implies a nascent feminist politics after a childhood being excluded from playing a sport she loves by her brothers - yet we know nothing of it. we know ginny loves the one wizarding band that seems to exist because she has a poster of them on her wall and it just.... is something we just get told about her. now, all of these suggest ginny is a good time gal and a right laugh at the pub. and that's nice! i too am fun at the pub! but why does it matter? it wouldn't, in another series. but in a series where Everything Matters, it really stands out.

now..... i don't think all of this is an unsolveable problem for those of us writing fanfiction about ginny or harry and ginny as a couple. i don't think this makes ginny an inherently bad character. i hope the amount of life i have wasted thinking about this character is testament to this (...) and i personally find trying to cook up some fleshed-out characterisation and a satisfying arc for ginny, and for female characters more generally, from the crumbs of the original source material to be a very rewarding way to pass the time and a fuck you to a woman who thinks she can gatekeep womanhood while writing some astonishingly antifeminist fiction. i think harry and ginny are a deeply compelling and eminently plausible couple, and i think i return to writing about them as much as i do because i think they have a ton of potential as narrative mirrors and as characters with a rich well of tension but also devotion between them. as i say a lot, i think one of the things the harry/ginny pairing does refreshingly well compared to other romantic lead couples in YA fiction is show a couple that, at heart, genuinely get on very well, have a laugh together and enjoy each other's company in completely mundane lovely day-to-day ways (laundry and taxes u know). i think that's a striking and refreshing dynamic that i like to spend time fleshing out and playing with and writing about. but i can also see that there is an inconsistency in jkr's character work here, particularly her character work writing female characters, of which ginny is among the most acute examples.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #61 – Those Across The River by Christopher Buehlman

Months and months ago, I asked for recommendations on books that actually tried to make werewolves horrifying instead of just some variety of urban fantasy or romance archetype. Those Across The River was one of the few real recommendations I got, and then spent most of the year languishing on my To-read shelf until I had entirely forgotten why it was there. It does very much fit the requirements asked of it, and in concept is really quite a juicy idea. Unfortunately, it’s rather let down b execution here – both in terms of prose and of content.

Frank Nichols is a historian – or was one, anyway. After an affair with a college's wife named Eudora becomes public and he responds by running away with her, his career prospects take something of a swan dive. And in the midst of the Great Depression, there are far more wannabe academics than there are jobs for them. So, after living for a time with his brother in Chicago, the two of them move down south to take up residence in the small southern town his mother fled as soon as she was able, where Dora might at least draw a salary as a school teacher. And, more importantly, where Frank can research his great-grandfather, a confederate planter killed by his own slaves in the last days of the Civil War whose ruined plantation lies somewhere nearby, to write the biography that will restart his career.

Times are tough there too, and soon after the pair of them move in there is a town meeting where it’s agreed to end the monthly tradition of driving a pair of hogs across the river to thank God for their good fortune. While God doesn’t seem to mind much one way or the other, the creatures living in the woods who had made feasts of those pigs certainly do, and on the next full moon raid the outskirts of the town to make their displeasure known. From there, things just about only get worse.

So as mentioned, this is the vanishingly rare sort of story made in the last couple of decades that take ssomething recognizable as werewolves and actually tries to play them straight as something awful, threatening, and horrifying. I think this mostly works – there’s only a scene or two I’d really call horrifying, but then with books that’s an incredibly high bar for me. It manages the tone and atmosphere of a proper horror story throughout, and never lets the werewolves stop being strange an dangerous.

A large part of this is, I’m sure, just the fact that no one in the story is even the tiniest bit genre-savvy or awae of what a ‘werewolf’ is, as a cultural figure. Beyond providing the isolation and lack of outside forces that might help, the period setting does an incredible amount of work in just making it plausible that no one in the story was aware of what kind of story they were in. This is actually probably the first straightforward monster horror story I’ve read or seen in a while that wasn’t in some way trying to comment or make cute references to the wider genre.

The period setting is, werewolves aside, easily the most engaging thing about the book. Less so for the particulars of the world than the character of Frank. The entire book is spent in his head, marinating in his internal monologue, and it’s a wonderfully strange and uncanny place – the story makes a liberal college professors from New England in the 1930s seem more genuinely alien (and often repulsive) than most genre fiction manages to make feudal aristocrats or cybernetic oligarchs.

The prose is interesting. Often good, but just as often reading like someone’s very self-conscious pastiche of mid-20th century ‘Great American Novel’ writing. Which I think is intentional, but does begin to wear on you – there’s only so many times you can read a guy say ‘how like a sphinx!’ when describing his fiancee before it grates. The exception here is Frank’s traumatic nightmares of his time fighting WW1 in France, which I reliably found quite evocative and striking.

The book’s politics are, well, bad, but in an absolutely fascinating sort of way. Better to say that the book is torn between the themes and politics it wants to have, and the mixture of genre requirements and I guess an author and editor who didn’t care much about subtext that leave it sending too drastically different messages. It’s probably one of the most interesting things about the book.

On the explicit, textual level, the book is very conscious of all the petty cruelty and flagrant brutality that went into maintaining the Jim Crow South, and views e.g. the way Frank calls it ‘the States War’ with jaundiced irony. There are passages talking explicitly about the injustice of sharecropping, and the vulgar racism of all the townspeople is presented as one more reason to view most of them with contempt. And of course the supernatural evil driving the whole story is the bloody legacy left behind by a confederate slaveowner who hunted and consumed human flesh wearing the skin of a beast, whose shadow looms large over the entire story. The book is generally very clear that ‘racism = bad’.

And yet-

This is also a story where functionally every black character is an inhuman, man-sexually predatory, man-eating beast in human skin (there is exactly one ‘good’ werewolf, he’s a yankee), where the indigent drifters walking through town begging for work really were sinister malefactors mapping things out to return with their friends latter, where the protagonist’s fiancee having dubiously consensual sex with a black man is very much presented as part of her own transformation into an insatiable, uncontrollable, literally babe-eating werewolf herself.

Horror has a reputation for being a reactionary genre by default, which this book feels like a decent argument towards. More, it was published in 2010, and I might owe that whole decade of pop-media critique being elevated to spectator sport that it’s genuinely hard to find stuff quite this unselfaware getting published these days.

A very fitting Halloween read I suppose, in the same way watching an ‘80s slasher is.

[ineffablesuffering]

There Must Be an Angel (Aziraphale x reader)

I'd like to thank @avocado-writing for the inspo for this fic. They recommended I add this song to my 80s playlist (because I totally forgot this song existed) and this fic was born! I think this is classed as a songfic? I'm not too sure, anyway enjoy! <3

Pairing: Aziraphale x Reader

Warnings: unorganised bookshelves

Word count: 948 (short and sweet, might write a part 2?)

Masterlist

--------------------------------------

“Aziraphale?” you called as you walked through the door of the bookshop, the familiar comforting scent of dust, tea and incense filled your nostrils.

“Ah, Y/N! I was wondering when you would get here,” he said appearing from the back room. “How are you, my dear?” he asked, embracing you.

You gladly returned his embrace “I’m good thank you, how are you?”

“Much better now that you’re here,” he smiled “Shall we get started?”

You had agreed to help Aziraphale organise his books after Jim/Gabriel (you never were sure what to call him) had attempted to sort them in his own unique way. It had been driving him up the wall as he could never find what he was looking for. You were more than happy to help out a friend in need, besides, you enjoyed his company. You nodded and let him show you where he wanted you to start.

“It’s been so frustrating trying to find anything since,” he stopped and sighed “I’m not even going to mention it because it just annoys me. If you want to start here with whatever this is, I’ll start over there,” he pointed to a bookshelf on the other side of the room.

“Sure!” you said cheerfully, “you don’t mind if I listen to some music while I work, do you? Helps me concentrate.”

“Not at all my dear,” he said with a smile, “whatever helps you.” He gave your shoulder a pat before walking off to where he would be working.

You smiled at him as he walked off, pulling your headphones out of your bag and connecting them to your phone. You selected a playlist and got started. The shelves were a disaster zone but at least they were all of the same genre otherwise it would have taken all day to fix whatever was going on. You began by gently taking off all the books from the shelves and placing them on a table nearby before deciding that it would be best to alphabetise by author. Getting stuck in, you bopped along to the music playing on your headphones, singing quietly to yourself every so often. The time passed rather quickly and soon you were on to a new section.

You decided to take the section next to the one where you had started and repeated the process. Taking books of the shelf, placing them on a table and reorganising them. You changed your playlist to an 80’s one and continued to sing along quietly. The smooth sounds of Eurythmics played through your ears. You smiled and continued to work. “I walk into an empty room, and suddenly my heart goes boom, it’s an orchestra of angels and they’re playing with my heart,” you sang.

Aziraphale stopped in the middle of putting a book back on the shelf a few aisles away. He could hear you singing softly to yourself almost as if you didn’t think anyone could hear you. You weren’t singing loudly but it was definitely loud enough for him to hear. He tilted his head slightly, not recognising the song but the fact that you were singing about angels definitely caught his attention. He peaked out from the bookshelf that he was organising and walked around to where you were working.

“I must be hallucinating watching angels celebrating,” you continued to sing.

He stopped when he reached you and stood and watched as you continued to sing softly, not noticing he was standing there. He watched with a soft smile on his lips, you seemed so content organising and singing. You continued to place book by book back on the shelf in an organised manner and he just watched. You started to sing what he assumed to be a different song.

“I hear your voice, it’s like an angel sighing, I have no choice, I hear your voice feels like flying,” you sang.

Aziraphale leans slightly against the bookshelf just watching you. His eyes danced across your figure as you worked, he felt like he could watch you all day. You turned around ready to start on a new set of shelves and jump at the sight of Aziraphale watching you.

“Jesus Christ!” you said, getting a fright “I didn’t hear you come up behind me, is everything okay?” you laughed taking off your headphones.

Aziraphale chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just heard you singing, you’ve got a lovely voice.”

You blushed and bashfully dropped your gaze to the ground. You hadn’t realised that you were singing loud enough for him to hear you. “Thanks,” you mumbled. Aziraphale stepped closer to you, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him.

“There’s no need to be shy my dear,” he smiles moving his hand from your chin to brush a finger across your cheek, almost appreciating the blush. “It was quite beautiful. Almost angelic.” You stood there, gaping at him. You didn’t know what to say or how to react. “What were you singing darling?” he asked softly, snapping you out of your trance.

“Oh! Um what song?” you asked

“The last two just there.”

“Ah, so that was There Must Be an Angel and then the second one was called Like a Prayer.”  

“Hmm, I see,” he started “fitting do you not think?” Again, you were at a loss for words. What is going on? You thought to yourself. Aziraphale smiled at you, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Tea?” he asked. You didn’t say a word as you found yourself staring at him as he walked away.

[melbatron5000]

Crowley 1.0 and 2.0 (2)

If you haven't read my insane theory that there are 2 Crowleys, start here.

Episode 2: The Clue

The goats in the land of Uz, that's Crowley 1.0. He's on Aziraphale's left, and stage left when he and Aziraphale face each other, as he should be.

The next scene Crowley appears in is when Shax shows up outside the Bentley to ask him about the 25 Lazarii miracle. There's no mirror, she appears facing him rather than behind his back or him behind hers, so I believe this is Crowley 1.0 again, though without Aziraphale there I wouldn't swear to it.

The next scene we see is at the pub, and Crowley is on Aziraphale's left and stage left when they face each other. That's Crowley 1.0.

However, they leave the pub and go to the book shop. Crowley takes a Jane Austen novel off the shelf, and the camera cuts to Aziraphale. When Crowley comes around the corner to join him, he's switched! As I noted in my previous post, the 2 Crowleys seem able to switch very seamlessly in the books shop. He steps up next to Aziraphale's right side to ask Jim about the first thing he remembers. Crowley 2.0.

Then we go into the memory of the Job story, and we briefly focus on Crowley 2.0's face before the camera zooms into the book. The scene opens with him talking to Job, then Sitis. Then he meets Aziraphale in Job's courtyard, and he starts out on stage left while they talk, but he crosses the courtyard and winds up stage right of Aziraphale before Aziraphale discovers the crow-goats. However, I think that's because they have had a disagreement, and Crowley lied. We know from season 1 that when things are off between them, they are on their wrong sides.

The next place we see Crowley is coming back from doing spy shit. He's alone, so I really don't know which one he is. He stops to talk to Nina, then goes on to talk to Aziraphale outside the Bentley. He's on stage right. Crowley 2.0. Might explain why he lets Aziraphale push him around on borrowing the Bentley -- he knows Crowley 1.0 is protective of the car, but he doesn't know if he can actually let Aziraphale drive it or not. It also might explain why Aziraphale seems to be talking about the record quite a bit later than he first brought it up -- he's already told Crowley 1.0 about the Clue, but he hasn't told Crowley 2.0. It might also be that they are disagreeing about the car, so they're on the wrong sides.

And last but not least, Crowley will not take Aziraphale to Hell.

[chussyracing]

What has been happening in the world of motorsports?

I probably forgot a lot of stuff since I took too much time to post it, but the roundup is under the cut. All mistakes are my own!

Drivers and teams

All teams will have a shared launch event in London for next year, all drivers are confirmed to take part in it and there should be famous names like Madonna and Justin Bieber (who is funnily enough blacklisted from Ferrari after repainting his against their rules hehe) also Max already stated he would rather be sick that week than be included

Update there is slight backleash from fans because it sold out very quickly and then tickets already get resold for much higher price

Also Ferrari already announced their own launch event in Maranello and all Italian fans (or fans physically in Italy) that buy tickets to their museums can be entered into the giveaway for tickets to get there

In 2025 VCARB should be named Racing Bulls

They should also be using some parts from RB20 (I think suspension?) on for Las Vegas which should speed them up

Dan Fallowes left Aston Martin’s position of technical director after Brazil

Also Aston Martin scored a new partnership with Puma for 2025

According to FIA’s newest controls Red Bull didn’t use the front bib to alter the ride height between quali and races so there was no cheating from their side

Antonio Fuoco will do a junior FP1 session for Ferrari in Abu Dhabi in Carlos’ car after Ollie can no longer be considered as junior (he drove 3 races and the rules specifically state no more than two to be considered junior)

Nico, Este and Carlos has been cleared from their teams to do Abu Dhabi post season tests for their new teams

The same cannot be said about Lewis but the date when he will go to Maranello for the first time has been set already, as have been the details of him driving f1-75 since only old spec is allowed outside of texting and filming days

To nobody’s surprised Alpine will use Mercedes PUs from 2026 onwards (it should be a 5-year deal as of now and since it ramps up the value of the team I expect them to start looking for a buyer after 2026)

Inaki Rueda (yes, THE race strat head from Ferrari that we made petitions against) joined Audi under Binotto (he replaces Zehnder who will move into a different position in the team)

Red Bull accused certain teams that acquired their engineers and mechanics over the years from cheating with tyres by inserting a small amount of water in them to help cool them down and Pirelli responded that they found no evidence for this so far (also red bull thinks so because they were the ones who tried to find a way to cheat with this but weren’t successful SO FAR)

James Vowles mentioned how after all the heavy crashes, with only 3 races to go and a small budget, it will be difficult to bring parts to Las Vegas which caused a few ill-minded articles about no Williams in Vegas BUT the truth is they might bring in old specs and with no spare parts but they will be there

Merc is preparing a special goodbye livery for Lewis for Abu Dhabi (and you can be a part of it if you sign up on their website and get chosen)

Audi (or Stake because it will be funnier what I say next) is selling a stake in the team to Qatar’s sovereign wealth fund

Recent interviews with Toto (a motorsport podcast and the new motorsport book) show him as a pretty big loser because he spoke about Lewis mentioning that Sainz Sr told him about the move in Abu Dhabi 2023 and he texted Fred who left him on read and he also said that Lewis saved him some trouble hinting that they would need to get rid of him because of… *checks notes* lack of cognitive sharpness since everyone has shelf life??

Williams will add more yellow color to their Vegas livery for Keeper sponsorship

Silly season

Sauber confirm both Valtteri and Guanyu are out of the team at the end of the season and their 2025 driver line up is Nico and Gabriel Bortoleto (who untied the relationship with McLaren where he was on loan)

There are growing speculations (almost confirmed tbh) that Val could become Mercedes’ reserve driver

There are also MANY speculations about Franco: Horner visited Williams’ motorhome and they rumoredly offered to buy him for 10m and Williams said no unless they come up with a bigger check (Briatore is also looking at the possibilities of hiring him which would put Jack Doohan aside after he signed the deal with them for next year)

There are rumors Checo could get replaced next year, there are ones he will keep the seat and that he will bring more sponsorship money (choose your fighter)

What happened in the sport recently

Toto Wolff was missing from Brazilian GP

To celebrate Senna, Brazil had special pole award with Brazilian colors, special top 3 caps for the podium in yellow and green and with “Senna” at the back and Lewis drove Senna’s McLaren as the honorary citizen of Brazil

McLaren said the WDC was never their priority, and they always went for the constructor’s title after Brazil where they made Oscar let Lando in front twice in the same weekend (el oh el)

Little hats off to Fernando (it’s not really news but he deserves it), his back pain was so bad in Brazil he couldn’t even get out of the car afterwards, yet he decided to finish the race for the mechanics that worked to get the car repaired for the race after he crashed it in qualifying the same day

Women in motorsport and juniors

Alex Powell became Italian F4 rookie champ for 2024 I thought that is very neat

Rafaela Ferreira becomes another confirmed member of F1 Academy’s 2025 line up and will be driving for VCARB (she is the first female race winner of the Brazilian F4 Championship)

The 2024 F1 Academy champ (so most likely Abbi Pulling) will get a fully funded GB3 seat with Rodin for 2025 and 20 paid days of testing in the car before the season

Callum Voisin will stay with Rodin in F3 for 2025

There is rumor (which I wouldn’t believe so far) that Briatore is interested in Franco Colapinto and would like to set Jack Doohan’s contract aside for him

Dino will be racing for DAMS in F2 for the rest of the season to replace Juan Manuel Correa (yes but also nooooo)

With Jack confirmed for Alpine 2025 (for now at least) there are speculations of Paul Aron possibly becoming their reserve driver since the current TP of Alpine was also his boss in Hitech

Max Esterson will finish the season for Trident in F2

There is a RUMOUR for now that Roman Staněk could have a deal with Invicta in F2 for a full season seat next year (please and thank you)

Thomas Bearman (yes, Ollie’s baby brother) became first confirmed British F4 driver for 2025 (he will be racing with Hitech since he already had two races with them)

Chloe Grant is leaving the world of single seaters but wants to explore other racing options

Hailie Deegan will be driving Indy NXT in 2025 with HMD Motorsports

Richard Verschoor is switching to MP Motorsport after leaving Trident, meaning Denis Hauger is out of F2 for the rest of the season (he will move to Andretti in Indy though)

Nikola Tsolov (my arch nemesis) became the newest part of Red Bull junior academy

Roman Bilinski will be Rodin’s F3 driver in 2025

Nikola Tsolov will be Campos’ F3 driver in 2025

Nicola Lacorte will be DAMS’ F3 driver in 2025

Fia, rules and future of the sport

Honda got fined 600k for engine budget cap breach (incorrectly filled out documentation) and Alpine got fined 400k for engine budget cap breach (late submission of the documentation)

GPDA made an Instagram account and put up a joint statement/an open letter to Bey Sulayem mentioning swearing, jewelry and underwear rules and urging the president to change his tone when talking to and about the drivers and be transparent about the use of money they get from all the financial fines as it is unclear as it stands now

FUNNILY enough, Sulayem who is biggest voice calling for lack of politic gestures and speech from all sport figures in F1 congratulated Trump publicly on his elections campaign

Domenicali said to be ready for the news very soon which should be linked to the rotating calendar for European races he couldn’t stop talking about for a year now (after Monaco extended its contract it could be Spa and Zandvoort and also potentially Monza and Imola)

Oh, also he said that Argentina is among the candidates who would like to get added to the calendar

Race director Niels Wittich was fired from his role unexpectedly (according to him, he only got told on Tuesday morning) and he will be replaced by Rui Maques from Las Vegas on

Paolo Basarri also left the role of FIA compliance officer (and yes, he was most likely fired as well)

Monaco will stay on the calendar at least till 2031 after extending their deal, the date will be moved back to the start of June starting from 2026 (happy pride to all the non-straight non-cis chirlies out there we stay winning) so it will no longer clash with Indy 500 and the new deal includes higher hosting fees (of course)

Liberty Media CEO Greg Maffei leaves his position in the lead at the end of the year but will continue as an adviser (they are apparently restructuring so let’s see how it goes)

Drivers will have cooling sets for extreme heat races from 2025 onwards (when FIA proclaims the race as extremely warm one that is)

The rookie sprint got a green light from all teams but they will need some preparations to make that happen so they will aim to have it ready for 2026

Also there should be gender neutral wording in the FIA rules starting with 2026 onwards

Ohh and! If a car cannot start the race, the grid should now be brought closer

Other series

Arthur Leclerc’s team Scuderia Baldini won the Italian GT championship

Kinda not my playing ground but: Norman Nato will be driving for WEC Jota Sport team (they partnered with Cadillac tho, also he will be teammates with Jenson Button)

Joseph Loake drove Aston at Silverstone as his prize for winning Autosport Young Driver of the Year (and apparently his time was pretty good?)

Jak Crawford became Andretti’s reserve driver for Formula E

REMINDER MACAU GP THIS WEEKEND (before I forget :))

Another thing I am not really following but I just learned Nascar works in playoff system until 4 people stay (Joey Logano won for those who wanna know!! Also, the guy with most points ended up p5 WHAT)

Logan Sargeant did a seat fit with Meyer Shank Racing Honda and will be testing with them next week as well

Seb is in talks with WEC next year with Porsche (probably for Le Mans only tho)

Robert Schwartzman will leave Ferrari WEC at the end of the season and go to Prema in IndyCar, meaning we will also need a new reserve driver with Ollie in F1 and Arthur with his own race weekends

Toyota Gazoo Racing won WEC constructor title, Jota won the hypercar title

Enzo Fittipaldi will be doing IndyCar testing for McLaren (so random)

Non-sport news

With Lewis leaving, Mercedes put up a vacant position for Marketing Operations Driver Clothing Executive

Ferrari partnered with IBM on a multi-year basis starting in 2025

Oh, they also partnered with Chivas Regal whiskey (so I suppose this is what the leaked Charles by the piano pic is all about)

Williams also scored new deals with Zoox/Robotaxi

F1 Fantasy will feature a new mini league for Las Vegas only

Car fucker fun fact of the day: Bugatti W16 mistral set a new open roof speed record of 453.91 kmph

Las Vegas is apparently struggling to sell out the tickets for the race so there are many exclusive offers and sales (also apparently, they are giving away a lot of ticket packages to influencers)

Ferrari partnered with Gladiator movie producers so the main actor (Paul or Pedro I forgot I am sorry) went to Austin with them and on the other hand Charles and Carlos went to the premiere

Daniel and Max played padel which is something I would normally not mention on my blog even at the gunpoint but apparently a 13-year-old kiddo beat them (which makes it funnier that they did good when max was partnered with Charles that one time so I am automatically ranking him highly above most other drivers and you cannot stop me)

Carlos was at Maranello this week and the Scuderia clubs (are they still called that?) threw a little goodbye party for him with cake and a little plaque

McLaren will have a little fashion show with Abercrombie in Las Vegas

Speaking of Vegas, they partnered with Snoopy and made a special edition merch only available in shops there

Kit Kat became F1’s official partner (which is sus when they have publicly been Checo’s sponsor for years now)

Wait ok this rumor is so funny I need to add it: apparently there are rumors at Norwegian gossip websites that their princess could be dating Franco

Max was on some charity sim racing and apparently his car made fun of Lando, so people got into a lot of discourse

Ollie will be at Autosport Internation Show at NEC in January

Damon Hill is leaving Sky Sport after 13 years with the team

Yeah help, did you see Pierre has told kids in a podcast that him and Charles got asked for a threesome/polyam by some fan once????????

[clumsiestgiantess]

The Walls Won’t Be There Forever (tw dehumanization, some ptsd dreams of sexual harassment)(it is about the pet trope, however condemning of it the story might be. So watch out yk?)

I ended up deciding to put out the entire first half (aka first two povs) instead of something shorter. Y’all certainly don’t have to read it all in one sitting, but here it is!

Prologue

It all started with a discovery.  Then agian, someone mustve known sooner.  67 years after The Borrowers book series was published, along with various movies, tv shows, and spin offs, science finally got its hands on the real thing.  It wasn't completely true to the books, though.  Their reflexes were off the charts fast — probably why no one's managed to find one all this time.  They also had strangely-shaped ears.  However, the biggest disappointment: they were basically mice who looked like people.  Unfortunately, the books are still labeled fiction for this reason.  The creatures only speak in the squeaks of mice, and they aren't that much smarter than mice, either.  

Which is why, within a few months of discovery, the homosapians redactus, commonly known as Mice People or Borrowers after the books, became fully known to the world as either a pest or a pet.  I, for one, find it rather unsettling to see something that looks so similar to us but small, though apparently, most people thought that was very cute.  So, owning a little mouse person to dress up and play with instantly became a new trend.

On the other end of the spectrum, pest services started advertising their expertise in catching 'those sneaky little creatures stealing your things'.  Soon, every house was being inspected, including my own.  It was around the time of my younger sister Aubrey's birthday, and following the new trend, she begged my parents to let her keep one of the creatures.  My mother, who was already deathly afraid of tiny scurrying pests like mice, rats, and cockroaches, immediately rejected her idea of a pet mouse person.  Especially a wild one caught from the house.  Eventually, she made an exception for her birthday though, so she let her pick one out from the pet store in town.  The ones that came from there had to have gone through some kind of basic training to be on the shelf.  

Aubrey could barely sit still the entire drive to the store.  As soon as we got there, she ran straight to the new section of borrowers for adoption while me and my mother walked over to the section for pet cages and accessories.  As per normal, there was an array of products to choose from, ranging from normal glass cages with little 'bonus' accessories inside, to two level mini mansions that looked like decked-out doll houses.  "Oh look at this!" my mother exclaimed, pointing to a sign above one of the cages.  "These are on sale!  Two for one!"  

If a store puts anything, and I mean anything on sale, my mother will buy it just because it's 'saving money'.  Even if we're spending that money on useless things, it doesn't matter, just as long as it's on sale or in the clearance section.  "Mom, Aubrey's borrower doesn't need two cages.  Just get one."  "But then it won't be a sale…"  She stood there thinking while I walked the rest of the aisle.  

"How about this," my mother asked me on my way back.  "I'll buy both cages and both you and your sister can have little pets."  I blinked, "I thought we were just getting one for Aubrey because it's her birthday."  "What?  You don't want one?" she asked me, confused.  I shrugged, "They aren't that interesting, that's all," I said, not wanting to admit that they kinda freaked me out.  "Hmm…  Then you can get one.  And if you don't like it, or it's too 'boring' you can give it to Aubrey."  

I could see there was no way to win this argument, so I nodded and headed toward the aisle my sister had run down earlier.  As I started scanning the cages built into the wall, she ran up to me and yanked at my sleeve.  "Do you want to see my new pet?"  I didn't really have a choice once she started dragging me down the aisle.  "You already found one?" I asked.  "Mmm hmm," she nodded, "This one right here!"  Peering in, I could see the little human-like creature standing by its cot, preoccupied with something.  "Mom said I could have one too, but I'll probably just get bored of it and give it to you," I told Aubrey as I turned away from her borrower in its display cage.  "What!?" she whined, "How come you get one too?  That isn’t fair!  It's not your birthday!"  Shrugging, I answered, "I don't know, she found some deal on cages so she's letting me have one as well."

Aubrey stormed off to find Mom, while I began my search for a decent pet.  I wanted one that was mellow enough that it wouldn't cause trouble, but not so mellow that it would be boring.  Finally, after my sister begged me to hurry up and choose, I found one that seemed to be a good fit.  She was about average height for a borrower, with straight black hair that was cut at shoulder height, and piercing blue eyes.  She was probably just a few years older than me, so she would live for a long time after I bought her.  

The articles I’ve read about them say that borrowers can sometimes even outlive their owners if they're given proper care, but hopefully I can just hand it over to my sister if I get tired of it.  Aubrey might not want it, but Mom was relentless, so I guess it'll be their problem.  Soon our borrowers were boxed up and put on the register, along with my mother's brilliant bargain cages.  

After a careful drive back to the house (don't jiggle them around, you're gonna make them sick), and an even more careful trip up to my room (don't drop the box, it might escape), I finally began setting up my pet's new home.  The cage was pretty simple.  It's a large glass tank that takes up about half of the space on my dresser, with a wire top and two doors.  The side door was for taking your borrower out; it had a bolt lock on it to keep your pet safely inside.  However, the second door on the top of the cage had a simple latch on it.  This was really just for easy access to things like replacing food and water.  It was too high up for a borrower to reach, so it wasn't a possible escape route, but I took a mental note to duct tape it closed later.  

Most of the extra stuff from the bag inside the tank were bits of furniture and decorative trinkets to entertain your pet.  Honestly, most of it looked like it came from a cheap dollhouse set, but that's what you get when you buy 2 for 1 bargain cages.  I spread the random decorations around the cage, leaving a large empty space at the front for me to look through.  After everything was set, I picked up the small cardboard box holding the borrower and carefully opened it as I set it down inside the cage.  She didn't seem to want to come out, so I checked the locks on the doors one last time and left her to settle in.

Part 1

It all started with a discovery.  Humans know about us now, and they've wrecked everything from the very beginning.  Of course, our kind have had some close calls before.  Being seen but not caught, accidentally taking noticeable things, getting stuck in a gluetrap is always a frightening experience.  There's even been books and movies made about us but still, no one found out.  Until now.  My family barely got a warning before the exterminators arrived, separating us.  How long has it been since I've seen them?  Weeks?  Months?  I'm pretty sure my brother is in one of the other cages somewhere, but because of the code, I can't call out to him.  

The code.  It's always been one of those 'golden rules' you learn when you're young, almost like instinct.  I always hated thinking about it back then.  In fact, when I was younger, I had nightmares about this — this awful rule that forces us to quit speaking, forces us to play dumb so the humans might leave us alone one day.  I hate it.  I've always hated it.  Now that it's a reality, I hate it even more.  It's even worse than my childhood nightmares — at least those I could wake up from.  

With all the time I spend staring out a glass wall every day, I've noticed certain things about humans that I hadn't before.  Of all the humans I've seen, they always either act like predators, or act like prey.  The ones that act like prey are easier to deal with for sure.  They won't purposely hurt you most of the time, and even if they do, they make a big fuss over it.  Which is fine I guess, but they have such an overpowering scent of energy, and boy are they stupid.  They're also slightly annoying, and boring, and nine times out of ten they buy you to dress you up for whatever idiotic trend is going on now.  I wouldn't be surprised if many of my kind bought by them end up right back here in cages once our discovery blows over.

However, the humans that act like predators are a lot harder to read.  And like most predators of this world, I'm terrified of them.  I can only hope that I don't get picked by one of those.  Unlike the prey humans who buy you to be their little toy, the predators buy you because they see you as an animal — an actual pet.  If they scare the shit out of you, they don't care.  If you make them angry, they torture you, or take you back to the store with enough complaints to get you put down.

Yeah, again, I pray that I don't get chosen by one of them.  In fact, I think my best option is to sit here, not getting picked at all.  That dream died almost a month later though, when a certain family came in early to celebrate a birthday.  At first I thought it was just the younger one looking around; she bounced back and forth between all the different windows, peering in at each one of us just to make sure she knew all her options.  This human definitely fit into the prey category.  She picked hers quickly — not me thank goodness — and I let out a relieved breath.

Then, her older sister walked over and explained that their mother told her she needed a pet too.  Thankfully, I learned a lot of the human language before I was abducted.  I wouldn’t know half of what was going on without it.  Instantly, I went on high alert again, expecting this human to be the same type of prey human that her sister was.  However, as she silently paced back and forth along the wall, it became clear that she was more on the predator side.  It would take her a lot longer to find the 'right one'.  Keeping to my strategy, I steered clear of doing anything to attract attention.  Even so much as locking eyes for a moment was enough to set humans off.  I guess predators are interested in that sort of thing, though, because next thing I know I'm being thrown in a cardboard box and placed on a counter, my entire life summed up as $14.99 on the register.  

My heart rate finally slowed slightly as the humans drove back to their house.  Great, now I can panic.  My mind raced as I realized that my worst nightmare had come true.  I'd been chosen by a predator human.  How do I get myself out of this?  I can't just sit here and wait to be tortured!  I have to get out!  Frantically, I shoved at the pieces of cardboard that folded together above me, but nothing bugged.  Grabbing one of the air holes, I hauled myself up so I could see how the top opened from the outside.  

I had my head pressed to the hole for a while before I felt a crawling feeling down my spine.  I glanced the other way and fell back in shock.  The human was watching me — just waiting for me to slip up and do something wrong so she could hurt me.  That put an end to any escape plans for the rest of the ride.

Next thing I knew, I was brought through the house and upstairs to the girl's bedroom.  I tried to memorize the layout of the floors so I would know where to run if I escaped, but I quickly found that staying in one place was impossible with the human's movements jostling the entire box.  Eventually, I was placed on a massively large bed while the human cleared off a space on her dresser.  I sat silently in the box, pressed against the wall furthest from the human, watching through the air slits as she sorted out a cage for me.  

Finally, after everything was placed down, Liz, — I'd overheard her name in the car — picked up the cardboard box.  The motion was so sudden that I fell forwards.  My stomach lurched as I unsteadily righted myself.  Just as abruptly as the motion started, it stopped.  I barely had time to process what happened before the folds in the top of the box gave away, revealing the behemoth human far above me.  In a panic, I threw myself into a corner and watched as the human scrutinized me quietly, then stepped out of view.  I heard her footsteps get further and eventually fade away.

Though I could tell she was gone, I refused to leave the sad cardboard corner I hid in.  It offered the only protection I had, even if it wasn't much.  All I could do was sit there, shaking with fear-made adrenaline as tears welled in my eyes.  It must have been a good hour and a half at least when I'd finally stopped crying.  Existential dread loomed over my mind, whispering things like you’ll die here, and you won’t last a week.  Why on earth does my brain think it’s a good idea to terrify me even further than I already am?!

I shakily got up, steadying myself with the side of the box as I took in my horrible new home.  The ceiling was made of a wire mesh, and every wall was made of glass.  I noticed this instantly.  There was nowhere to hide — nowhere I could go where the human couldn't easily find me.

Slowly, I stepped out into the glass cage, brushing my fingertips over the human-style bed tucked against a corner.  The only decent thing in the entire room was this bed.  My old one at the petstore was almost as hard as the floor, and this one was blissfully soft in comparison.  I walked slowly along the back wall, always keeping the bedroom door in view as I passed an empty bookshelf and a dresser with a mirror made of reflective paper instead of glass.  My reflection was only a few sad distorted colors.  

The only other thing I had was a table with four chairs surrounding it.  I laughed coldly in spite of myself, forcing down tears before they had the chance to spring up.  Why would I ever need four chairs when I would probably never have the privilege of seeing a guest my own height?  Though I guess the human’s sister has one of my kind, too.  I can only hope they’re holding out alright.  It was funny, though.  They’d been picked by a prey human.  If anything, they should be worried about me.

I sat down at the table and sighed, burying my head in my arms.  How had it all come to this?  Why me?  What did I ever do to be thrown in a stupid-  BOOM  The door to the human's room suddenly swung open, startling me out of my thoughts.  "Oh look!" Liz's sister exclaimed as she rushed to my cage, "It's at the table ready to eat!  Look Liz, look how cute!"  I froze, stunned.  This human was LOUD, I couldn't really tell at the store because our rooms muffled everything, but sitting in a mostly empty cage — echoes vibrating off the walls — it was almost deafening.  

Wait, I’m supposed to be acting like a dumb creature, right?  I can't be sitting at a table in front of them.  Quickly, I backed out of the chair and sat in a random spot on the floor instead.  "That was so cute; maybe I could train mine to do that," Liz's sister thought aloud.  She meandered back out the door.  I was so distracted trying to seem unintelligent that I'd missed the sound of the cage door opening.  When Liz's arm fell down from above, I nearly screamed.  I soon realized that she wasn't here for me, though; she'd only come to deliver food.  If that's even what she's given me.  Liz left some kind of dried pellets on the table I'd been sitting at minutes ago, and I tried my best not to gag when she placed them down.  They smelled extremely un-appetizing.  However, as the long hours melted into days, I forced myself to eat them.  I had no alternative.

The bedsprings squeaked as Liz flung herself down, tablet in hand.  It had been a long, terrorizing morning, so I sat on my bed to watch her carefully.  Despite living in hell for the past week, I'm still not used to Liz being around.  To be honest, I’m still not used to the fact that I’m still around.

I had another nightmare last night, though it was really more of a horrible memory.  For the first few days of my time in the pet store, my subconsciousness was plagued with haunting images of the exterminators, tearing my old life away from me.  It was so bad that I hadn’t slept a single second.  I’d gotten almost drunkenly sick before managing to sleep nearly a week after my capture.  This time in my dream, it was Liz, not the exterminators, who dragged me away from my family as I desperately fought to stay with them.  I was thrown into the cage she bought me, and forced to wear stupid doll's outfits and play pretend.  After waking up, I doubted she would do that — she doesn't seem like the type — but I've heard what happens across the hall in her sister's room when the doors are open.  My nightmares are almost daily occurrences there.  

I shuddered, propping my pillows up, and sat back waiting for Liz to leave.  However, the silence of the room was threatening to swallow me.  The only sounds came from the slight thuds and creaks somewhere outside in the hallway.  Usually, my home was filled with sounds of life.  My mother, cooking on the makeshift stove, my father, stashing borrowed goods, and me and my brother, doing various chores around the house.  I reminisced for a moment before regrettably returning to my horrible reality.  

Suddenly, the silence was broken as the human began to humm to a song I'd heard on the radio at the store.  Well I have called you darlin' and I'll say it again…  the quiet hums became quiet singing as she got to the chorus.  Put your hand in mine, I promise that I will be with you all the time…   After another few lyrics, the chorus line came back around again, and I have to admit, I was enjoying the song.  Her voice wasn't actually that bad.  Then, Liz abruptly stopped mid-chorus-line and looked around, confused.  I didn't plan on her to stop singing so suddenly, so I kept going, not realizing my mistake until it was too late.  

I didn't know I was singing out loud.  I thought it was just in my head.  But as Liz's singing came to a halt, I'd actually kept going.  The entire borrower secret blowing up in my face.  Quickly, I looked over in shock and saw the massive girl staring at me.  "Y- You can sing!?"  Before I could stop myself, I blurted "No!"  

What did I do?  The hell did I just do!?  My hands flew to my mouth as I scrambled up from my bed in terror.  Liz flung herself up from her own bed as well and rushed over to the glass wall in front of me.  "You can talk!  You can understand me!  This is incredible!"  No, no, no, no!  This is when the torture starts; this is when they send you to a lab for the world to reveal your secrets!  Hot tears streamed down my face as I backed all the way up, crouching against the far wall.  

Liz thought aloud as she began to pace the room.  "How have we not noticed you guys can talk?  You've been in labs for months and human speech was somehow overlooked during all that?"  Coming to a sudden halt, she glanced back over at me.  "Wait.  There's no way they didn't catch that.  Which means…  Have you guys been hiding that from us the whole time?"  Slowly crossing the room, Liz peered through the glass again.  Her expression shifted from triumphant joy to a concerned frown.  "Wait, are you..  Are you crying?" she asked, confused.  No!  She can't figure it out!  My head screamed, my heart pounded in my ears.  Everything started to blur in front of me and I honestly thought I was going to pass out.  I did this.  I failed.  Once word got out about us, it would all be my fault.  

I desperately rubbed the tears from my eyes in a last-ditch effort to undo what I'd done.  She regarded me for a moment, typed something on her phone, then left it by my cage and backed off, giving me one last look before silently walking away to another level of the house.  Confusion was written on every inch of her gigantic form.  

My head was wrapped in a fog as I wandered over to the glass, staring at nothing as I tried to process what happened.  Then all at once, pent up emotions exploded through me in an instant.  "No no no!  I can't believe I let her walk away like that!  She's probably telling everyone right now, dammit!"  I kicked the glass angrily, "Why can't they just leave us alone?  Now they're all going to drag me off to some horrible lab to be studied!"  Tears welled against my eyes, blurring everything out as I crawled into bed.  “Please,” I begged no one in particular, “Please don’t let it end like this.”  Pulling the blankets up over my head, I lay in darkness wishing I could stay there forever.

Eventually, I heard the bedroom door open.  I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed myself deeper into my pillow, desperately willing whoever it was to go away.  The glass around me vibrated as they took something off the table and left.  To my utter amazement, that was all that happened.  Sure, I could hear the sounds of humans walking past from under the covers — which I never left the rest of the day — but they never came to take me away.   No one came to pry me out of bed.  No one even came by to ask why I was hiding.  The entire day played out just like any other, with even less commotion than normal.

This changed the next day however, when Liz came upstairs after breakfast and caught me out of bed, sneaking something to eat.  She came over and sat next to my cage as I cautiously backed into a corner between the glass and the stupid bookshelf she gave me.  It doesn’t even have any books on it — there aren’t any small enough for me.

Liz leaned closer, watching me intently.  "I left my phone here to record you talking yesterday.  So I'd have proof you actually can talk."  Shit.  "I watched it before going to show everyone."  Double shit.  Liz was quiet for a while, which gave me a moment to think.  So, if she showed everyone proof, why haven't I been taken away to a lab yet?  I squirmed uncomfortably in the corner as she stared me down, longer than she had even on the days when she would watch me to see if I would do something interesting.  There were a lot of those, and they were unnerving, but I was still thankful for them.  They were so much better than all the horror stories I expected from her.  In fact, I don’t even think she wants me around.  Well, she might not have, until I gave up my secret.

"That video,” Liz began, startling me from my thoughts.  “I mean, obviously you're smarter than we think you are but…  That's not mimicking human speech that's- that's you talking in the video."  Sitting back, she continued, "And you clearly have the same emotional range that we do, too…"  She looked over at me again, but for the first time, I didn't flinch back.  I was too dumbfounded by what she was saying.  "You're.. human."  What?  "Well, as human as a non-human can be anyway" she chuckled.  

So she saw me as…  No, if she saw me as an equal I wouldn't be in this dumbass box.  Also, what about the video she showed everyone?  I had to risk asking.  It's not like I'm helping the secret by staying silent, anyways.  The video is all the proof she needs.  

I took a breath to steady my voice, but it didn't help much.  "So..  W-what about everyone who saw the video?  Am I…  A-are they…"  Liz's eyes widened in shock as I spoke, and she shook her head, "No one saw the video but me."  "But, you said-"  "I watched the video and realized that you were right.  If I showed it to anyone you would probably end up in a lab.  So I kept it to myself.  I deleted it after a while.  It’s gone."  Blinking, I stood there confused.  "So.. You didn't sell me out?  Why?  Aren't I your… pet?"  I spat the last word like a curse.  I hated it, but it was true.  Liz’s look darkened, and for a terrifying moment, I thought I might’ve reminded her that she was supposed to be torturing me.

However, her expression softened a second later.  "Honestly, I don't know what you are anymore, but...  If you really are a person, then you shouldn't be in a cage."  Yes, please let me go!  "But then what?  Release you in the woods somewhere?  Doesn't your kind survive off ours?  Houses aren't safe now that we know you exist, so where could I even bring you?”

"Wait, wait.  What do you mean 'houses aren't safe'?" I asked warily.  I’m planning on escaping to another house if I ever get out of here.  Liz shrugged, "Well, now that people know about you, they're putting up traps.  Not just mouse traps, like, actual tripwire surveillance traps," she explained.  I puzzled over my new dilemma in shock, taking it all in as she went on and on about the various types of specialized borrower traps.  

If it’s true, and human houses aren't safe anymore, then what will happen to the rest of us?  The ones that haven't been caught?  There have to be some of us still out there, right?  Liz must have seen the horrified look on my face because she quickly ended her explanation.   "Alright, so releasing you isn't an option…"  I recoiled, "Of course releasing me is an option!  It's the only option!  I don't want to sit in a cage forever!"  I stormed over to the glass, my anger overcoming any common sense I had.  "You said I was human!  You said I don’t deserve to be in a cage!  I didn't do anything wrong!  You can't keep me in here!  You can't-"  My voice cracked, but I stubbornly shook my head, refusing to cry in front of this human anymore than I already had.

After a bone chilling silence, I was sure Liz would punish me for yelling at her, and I braced myself for whatever might happen.  Finally, she bent down to my height and asked: "Well, what do you want me to do?"  Me?  Carefully, I raised my head to look at her.  It seemed like she genuinely wanted to hear what I thought, but what do I think?  I want out, obviously.  But where?  If houses aren't safe, and the outside world is a nightmare now that the weather's getting colder, where can I go?  

I slowly stepped into the chair behind me and sat down heavily, pondering how I would get out of this situation.  "What if.." Liz proposed gently, "You stay here?  Not as a pet, but like, a roommate, maybe?"  "What's the difference?" I grumbled, "I still have to stay in this stupid glass box."  She thought for a bit, "Well, as long as you don't get caught outside when other people are around…  you could come out whenever you like."  

What?  This must be some kind of trick, right?  To gain my trust or something?  But why?  "No," I spat a little more harshly than I'd intended.  "You're just trying to make me your pet.  I won't fall for it."  Suddenly, I was ranting, and boy was I on a role.  "What is wrong with your kind!?  Why are you torturing us like this!?  Everything was FINE until you found us!  Now we're being treated like animals just because we took things you didn't even want!  Hell, you're so stupid you didn't even know they were missing!  All of these exterminators and traps — why do you care!?  Just let us go back to how things were!  But nooo, you just had to go and, and…  do whatever the fuck this is!" I yelled, gesturing to my glass box filled with useless trinkets.  "It isn't fair!"  I shuddered, "It isn't fair."  

I guess I'm just tired of being treated like this.  Or maybe I'm feeling gutsy because she didn't punish me the first time I lashed out.  Whatever it was that compelled me to say that, I could tell I wasn't getting off easily this time.  

Liz stood up to her full height, sending instinctive fear coursing through my veins.  I scrambled backward, recognizing the danger I put myself in, and hit the back wall with an echoing thunk.  Panicking as her gigantic form loomed closer to my cage.  "Wait!” I cried out, “I-  I didn't mean it!"  "Yes, you did," Liz cut me off in a bitter voice.  She sized me up, lips parted in a snarl, and for the first time it occurred to me that she could probably eat me in two quick bites.  Everything began shaking.  No, that was me shaking — dreading my inescapable demise.  

"Did it ever occur to you that not all humans are horrible?  That maybe I'm actually trying to help you?"  Liz asked from somewhere above my blurry line of vision.  "If you really want to get out of here, you can start by not cursing me out.  Whoever got you here, whoever trapped you and brought you to that pet store…  I’m- I’m not like that."  The last of her words faded on her tongue.  My gaze slowly drifted upwards until I was looking directly up to see her face, which had relaxed a bit.  "It's just me.  I don't want to hurt you, but I will, p-probably, accidentally maybe, if you keep this up."  She turned, walked into the hall, and closed the door, giving me a sidelong glance before her gaze was cut off.  

I was lucky.  Very lucky.  I thought I'd be dead for sure.  As much as I hated her for leaving me in here, she did have a good point.  It's a horrible idea to yell at someone about 30 times your size.  Everyone knows any human would gladly take the chance to torture me for that outburst, so why didn't she?  Hell, if someone a fraction of my size started cursing at me, I probably would've threatened to rip them apart.  

I went through the motions again as I paced back and forth for what seemed like hours, but I couldn't find one good reason for her to not have hurt me.  Other than just being nice, like she said she was…  No.  Never trust humans, especially when they've put you in a cage.  That was the conclusion I stuck with the rest of the day.  I dreaded talking to her again, but she would have to come back, this is her room, and I'm stuck in here.  Eventually, Liz did come back, and she looked like she'd been trying to avoid me just as much as I was hoping to avoid her.  But here we were, standing here staring at each other from across the room.  

"Sorry if I scared you before," Liz finally said, avoiding my gaze.  "I just…  Think it over, will you?  My offer?"  All I could do was stare at her in numb shock.  "But if you don't want to, I understand."  Liz shuffled off to the bathroom, PJ's in hand.  "Wait!" I yelped, then hesitated, unsure why I stopped her.  "Why..  Why are you apologizing to me?”

Liz stood silently in the doorway for a minute, then turned to me.  "I don't know," she sighed, "I just… don't know."  Then she walked away into the room's connected bathroom and shut the door, cutting off the conversation.  Is it just me, or was she acting like she was the one who got yelled at?  Wait.  She did get yelled at.  By me.  Was she actually that shaken up over what I said?  I shrugged it off; humans are strange creatures, I know that well enough.  

Re-making my bed — which looked more like a dollhouse bed than a normal bed — I lay down and realized just how tired I actually was as I sunk into the covers.  Later, I heard Liz came back out of the other room and got into bed herself, waving off her parents as they said goodnight.  

Nights always felt like my only time alone because humans rarely did anything in the dark.  That's why we do most of our sneaking around after hours.  Tonight was no different, and even though I was exhausted, I stayed awake.  My thoughts ran off as they sometimes do, and I couldn't help but come back to Liz's offer to be 'roommates'.  She said she would let me out and I could go wherever I wanted as long as no one else found out.  So, it was basically my old way of life back: hide from anyone who might see you and continue doing your own thing the moment they walk away.  I just.. add on a human to it, I guess.  

If I agree, and if Liz isn’t bluffing to trick me or tame me, I could probably just walk away into the walls and never come back.  I can escape without having to find a way to break out of here!  Liz shifted in her bed and I froze, thinking she somehow knew I was plotting against her, before realizing she had no clue what I was planning.  Letting out a frustrated groan, I turned over and fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up a bit shaken.  Nightmares of exterminators and cages plagued my dreams again last night, along with a few involving my newest captor, Liz.  I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes and stopped, confused, mid-stretch.  Something smelled amazing; what was that smell?  Then I noticed the table across the cage.  

Replacing the stupid everyday pile of food pellets was something I'd only dreamed of eating: a pancake.  I raced out of bed and skidded to a halt at the table.  It smelled so good it made my mouth water, and I ignored my borrower's common sense long enough to scarf it down.  I think I'd been sitting there for 20 minutes contemplating every scrap of food I ever ate or stole before Liz walked in.  "I see you enjoyed breakfast," she noted as she sat next to the cage.  "I'd enjoy it more out there," I commented.  "Well, if you agree to the deal, you can."  

Glancing upward at her, I sighed tiredly.  "So what exactly do I have to do?  Just hide whenever someone shows up?"  "It depends," Liz said, "If you're out while I'm here, I'll just say I was watching you so no one will think you're escaping."  For a second I thought guiltily of my escape plan the night before.  Wait, no.  I shouldn't feel guilty, I'm escaping capture not running away.  There's a difference.  

"But if you come out and I'm not there," Liz continued, "Then you have to try and make it back into the cage so it looks like you were in there the whole time."  "So I don't hide from them?"  She shook her head, "No, if someone happens to look over and see that you aren't there, then I get in trouble for letting you 'escape' and you get in trouble because my mom would probably call the exterminators at that point.  She hates small creatures."  Liz seemed to notice me flinch at the very mention of those awful people because she added, "I'll probably just pretend to search for you while you sneak back in, so hopefully it won't come to that."

Blackmail.  That's it; this is probably blackmail to get me to be a good little pet.  She’ll let me out, but she threatens me with exterminators if I don’t come back to her.  I did say she was the predator type, and those were usually smarter than their counterparts.  The joke's on her, though, because when I get out, I'm running far away from where anyone might find me.  I don’t know where, but I will.  

"Alright," I told her, "I'll come back to the stupid cage."  Liz sighed, bending down to my level to look me in the eye, so I could tell this was important.  "I don't like keeping you in here every day either, trust me.  That's why I'm offering you this deal.  But we already established that I can't just release you."  "Then just let me live out there!" I yelled, cutting her off.  "Get rid of the cage and I'll set up a place for myself right where it was, because for some reason your kind insists on watching me constantly!"  "If I treat you like a person, like I want to, won't everyone find out about your secret?" Liz snapped back.  

I'd forgotten about that, but it didn't matter, all I have to do is convince her to let me out and I'll be free.  If my plan works, I can finally have my life back.  Or at least a part of it.  "Alright, fine.  I agree to your deal."  Liz smiled slightly, "Did you want to come out now?"  What kind of idiotic question was that?  Of course I want to get out.  I nodded vigorously and watched as her hand reached around to the side of my cage and unlocked the door to my prison.  I dashed outside the moment her hand left the door.

I did it!  I'm home free!  I'm… terrified.  As I stepped from my cage to the barren surface of the dresser, my senses started spiking.  I was completely exposed here, and a human was staring me down from within their arm's length.  Being watched from in my cage is one thing — even though the walls are glass, they are still walls.  The glass would stop any immediate attack from reaching me.  Out here on the open dresser, there was nothing to stop Liz from straight up grabbing me.  This wasn't the kind of freedom I was expecting.

Liz seemed to understand, at least slightly, what I'd just realized.  "If you like, I could leave some things out on the counter for you to hide behind.  Though, I was kind of hopong you could sit at my desk."  She gestured to the massive piece of furniture on the opposite side of the room.  I looked up at her, bewildered.  "And how do you expect me to get over there?  Fly?  I don't have any climbing gear, and I doubt you'll give me any."  "Well, I.." she trailed off, holding out a single hand, palm up.  It took a few seconds to understand what she was hinting at.  Immediately, I stepped all the way back to the furthest part of the dresser, glaring at Liz all the while.  

"Oh, hell no.  No thank you.  I'm not going to literally put my life in your — or anyone else's — hands."  It only fueled my anger to see disappointment spread across her face.  "You said I wasn't going to be your pet, remember?" I asked peevishly.  "Just tie up some string or something I can climb.  I can get there just fine on my own."  I halfway expected Liz to ignore me and pick me up anyways, but she only nodded, saying she could probably duct tape a few pieces up later.

Just then, Liz's mother called her away to do the dishes.  "I'M COMING!  ONE SECOND!" Liz called, nearly blasting my eardrums out.  I yelped and covered my ears in pain.  In my family, we never shouted at eachother like that.  Mostly because a human might’ve heard us, but still.  In fact, we rarely verbally spoke at all.  Sign was the main method of communication between us; it was best to keep quiet.  The only time we really spoke aloud was when we were practicing human English.  

Liz turned back around and gave me a pitying glance, "Oh, sorry I yelled.  I'll be back in a bit, ok?  Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."  Her parting words stuck in my head even after she'd disappeared behind her bedroom door.  Did she think I would try to escape?  I mean, I would if I could, but without a climbing rope, scaling this dresser would be impossible.  Still, I just couldn't wrap my head around it.  Why would a human leave me alone out here?  Weren't they all supposed to be cruel and unjust?  

I paced the length of the dresser, trying to get a good view of the room.  If I were to try and escape, I would have to find an electrical socket that was low enough to the ground that I could slip into it without needing my climbing gear.  Oh how I missed my gear — my grappling hook.  I would already be long gone if I still had it.

When Liz returned, I was sitting on the edge of the dresser, legs dangling off its side.  Liz took one look and rushed at me.  I scrambled backwards, screaming involuntarily at the surprising speed the giant had.  "What are you doing on the edge like that!?" Liz asked hurriedly, "You scared me, I thought you might fall."  It took me a moment to catch my breath.  I was so certain she'd changed her mind about our deal.  I thought she was coming to punish me.  "I scared you?" I asked angrily, "You rushed at me!  I thought you were about to attack me!  What is wrong with you humans!?"  

Liz took a step back, ashamed.  "I'm sorry, I just-  Aren't you scared?  That ledge is so high for you."  I scoffed.  Were all humans this dumb?  Probably.  "Of course I'm not scared.  I've lived in human houses my whole life.  I've stood on much taller furniture before.  I don't get scared of heights."  Liz sat down on the end of her bed; I could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she thought.  For the brief silent moment, I wondered if she might be angry at me for making her seem so stupid.  "Oh," she said finally, "I guess you're right."

The bedsprings creaked as she stood up and gathered a few things from her desk.  I was about to ask what Liz was doing when she froze, looking up suddenly like she'd just remembered something.  In a few quick strides she was sitting in front of me again.  How do they move so fast?  "I just realized I don't even know your name," Liz said, looking expectantly at me, "You know mine's Liz, right?  I'm sure you've overheard it a dozen times by now, but I don't know yours."  

Wow.  Everyone, and I mean everyone knew humans loved to give their pets about a hundred cute little names.  It’s not just borrower pets, either.  All human pets seem to have a few various different names the humans like to call them by.  Never in a million years would I have thought a human would be asking for my real name.  "It's Wren," I said in shock, "My name's Wren."  "Like the bird?" Liz asked.  I shrugged, "I guess so."  She smiled warmly, "Well, it's nice to officially meet you, Wren."

All I could do was stand there, staring.  Liz had such a genuine smile — maybe she does actually care about me.  I can’t get my hopes up, though.  I know better than to trust human beings, but who knows, there's a chance I'm just insanely lucky enough to end up with one of the better ones.  I was stirred from my thoughts as Liz got up again.  "I'm going to go get some things to make your climbing stuff, alright?"  I nodded, and she was gone.  It wasn't long before Liz returned, though.  She was carrying a bin of various household supplies in her arms, and set it down on her desk.  

Briefly, she rummaged through the items she'd brought, then sat down and began to work.  To be honest, I wanted to be on that desk so I could craft some useful escape items, and I stewed in annoyance because I'd have to be carried to get there.  That would change soon enough, though; I'd make sure of it.  Liz worked mostly in silence before she was called away for lunch and I was left alone for the third time that day.  It'll be so easy for me to escape this place.  Almost too easy.

When Liz returned this time, she brought me a small portion of her lunch.  A piece of pasta was placed on the table in my cage, covered in some kind of sauce.  "Why are you giving me that?" I asked before Liz could return to her work, "Food wasn't part of the deal."  She turned and gave me a curious look, "Would you rather eat the pellets instead?"  "Oh, no no," I backpedaled, "I'm not complaining, I'm just.. confused."  Liz gave me an amused look, "Can't I do something nice for you?"  I was about to launch into a huge explanation on why her behavior was so perplexing to me, but I held my tongue and nodded in agreement.  Sitting down at my plastic table, I ate another extravagant meal.  At this rate, Liz was going to spoil me, but this is one thing humans tend to do to their pets that I don't mind.

After finishing my meal, I cautiously returned to my seat at the edge of the dresser.  My movement must've caught Liz's eye; she turned and regarded me for a moment.  "How do you do that?" she asked me.  "Do what?"  "Sit up there like that.  I know you said it was normal for you, but I think I'd be terrified if it were me up there instead."  For a while, I sat deep in thought.  "Well, I wasn't always this at ease with heights, I guess.  When I was still being trained on how to.. you know, steal human things, I was pretty scared."  

Liz put down whatever she'd been messing with and fully turned her attention to me.  She clearly wanted to hear more, but I was slightly hesitant to explain anything related to my kind.  Then again, she already knew we were basically human.  I took a breath to steady myself and relayed my story.

"I was about 10 at the time," I began, "average age to begin training.  I'd never seen the human side of the house we lived in.  My parents made sure to keep me safe inside the walls.  Both my father and older brother showed me the way through the passages out to one of the exits.  They started me off with one of the easiest and most important borrowing spaces: the kitchen."  Liz had slowly ventured closer to my side of the room, eyes wide in fascination.  

"Why is that the easiest?"  I couldn't help but smile; I'd asked my father the same question earlier that very day. "The electrical socket is usually right there on the counter, so you don't have to scale anything to get up to the supplies and-"  I stopped short.  Should I have said that?  Wasn't it also a secret of my kind that the entrances to our wall systems were often electrical outlets?  

"Why did you stop?" Liz asked me.  "I.. I don't know if I should be telling you all this," I answered honestly.  "About your life or the entrances?"  I shrugged.  "We already knew the electrical socket thing, in case you were wondering," Liz continued, "It's where the exterminators set the traps."  "Of course it is," I grumbled, glaring angrily at nothing in particular.  "So, can you continue?" Liz asked hesitantly, "You know I wouldn't tell anyone if you reveal something to me."  I thought for a moment, then nodded.  

"I'd just made it out onto the counter.  It was really dark because we scavenge at night, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. When they did, I was so stunned my brother swore to me I stood frozen for a good five minutes before coming to my senses.  Everything was so much bigger than I'd expected.  Like I said earlier, I'd never seen a human's living space before, and I'd certainly never seen a human before, either.  Everyone said they were big, I just.. never really understood how massive they really were until that night."  

I glanced over at Liz, who shuffled uncomfortably in her seat.  "Of course, I'm not scared of humans anymore," I bluffed, "Your kind are just an annoying nuisance nowadays.  I was 10 though, so yeah, I was kind of freaking out."  "You aren't scared of us?" Liz asked in astonishment, "Wow, I'd be terrified.  Aren't we like 50 times your size and 1,000 times your weight?  I mean, I've seen some people do horrible things-"  "Alright!  Alright!  Fine, yes!"  I cut her off and stood up abruptly, "Obviously your kind are horrifying.  I get it, you can do whatever you want to us and we can do nothing.  You don't have to rub it in."  There was an uncalled-for touch of malice in my voice; I didn't mean for it to have been there, but I couldn't take it back now.

Liz sat speechless for a while, staring at me as I glowered from my place on the dresser.  "I..  I didn't mean to-"  "Yeah yeah, I get it.  Whatever."  I stormed over to the door on the side of my cage and slammed it in her face.  It wasn't as grand an exit as I'd hoped.  She could still see me marching off inside my glass prison.  I put my crafting skills to good use and pulled the blanket off my bed, tying it up like a curtain between my bed stand and the bookshelf next to it.  This created a small, and almost private room where I sat and fumed for the rest of the day.  Tears burned in my throat and swelled in the corners of my eyes, but I refused to be scared.  The only thing I should feel towards this human is anger — resentment.  Whatever sort of sideways friendship I'd just tried to form blew up in my face.  Clearly my kind had been right all along.  Humans are cruel and unjust.  Liz is just better at hiding it.

We didn't speak a word to each other the rest of the day.  The only interactions we had were when Liz dropped off my dinner, but I refused to touch it just to make a show of how angry I was with her and her kind.  My mouth watered at the scent of whatever was left out for me.  Once, I've gone almost a week without eating anything, so I know I can easily survive skipping a meal.  In fact, three meals a day are fairly uncommon for my kind.  However, those old meals consisted of cold leftovers that didn't smell nearly as good as what was sitting right in front of me.  In the end, my mind won over my stomach and I went to bed without dinner.  

Liz returned to my cage right before she went to bed.  I was turned away from her, so I couldn't tell what she was doing, but I clearly heard her sigh at the sight of my untouched meal.  It was almost gratifying to hear her so concerned, because that's just what I was hoping for when I decided to starve a bit.  My satisfaction quickly fled my system when I heard the metal-on-metal squeak of the door to my cage being locked.  I flung myself upright in a panic.  "Why are you locking me in!?" I asked hurriedly.  I was almost certain I knew the answer; Liz was finally going to punish me.  She'd already removed my dinner from the table.  Is she planning to starve me?  

Liz flinched at my sudden outburst; I could feel it vibrate through the desk beneath me.  "Oh, I thought you were asleep."  "Why are you locking me in?" I asked again, my voice a bit steadier.  She stilled for a moment, looking me over with confliction.  Surely I could still convince her not to punish me.  If she was this hesitant, maybe I could persuade her not to trap me again.  I was about to begin an argument for myself, but Liz spoke up first.  

"I know I said I'd treat you like a person, but…" she took a breath and I steeled myself for whatever she would say next.  "I-  I don't really trust you enough to leave this open all night.  From what I know about you so far, I'd guess you would try to climb down this dresser and escape, regardless of whether you have your equipment to do it.  Meaning I'd probably wake up tomorrow morning to find a Wren-sized bloodstain on my carpet wherever you fell off in the middle of the night."  Liz said it all so matter-of-factly that it scared me a little bit.  Firstly, she'd very casually described a horrible way for me to die; secondly, that is what I had been planning to do.  Not the falling to my death part, obviously, but I was definitely going to try escaping tonight.  

Some of my inner turmoil must've spilled onto my face because Liz secured the latch with duct tape before responding.  "I know you want out, but I can't let that happen.  I'm not trying to be some evil captor, though," she added, seeing me reel back slightly at her first remark.  "If you do manage to get away…   I mean, good for you I guess, but it won't be long before you're taken by another exterminator and end up right back at the pet store where you started."  I really wanted to strangle her right then, but I pent up my anger and abruptly turned back towards my bed.  

“I don’t want you ending up hurt or dead or worse because you’re angry with me.  If…”  Liz was silent for a long time, and I tried not to look back at her as she sat in the dark.  “If I knew you were just a small person, I never would’ve put you in that cage.  I would’ve talked to you, I would’ve been.. better somehow.  I- I would’ve made sure you felt safe.  You don’t deserve what’s happening to you.  None of you do.”

"No.  We don’t."  It was all that I managed to say before sliding under the covers and throwing them back over my head.  

Liz is lying.  She wouldn’t have treated me any differently, and she might know it, too.  Humans get into this weird protective, emotional kinda mood sometimes — like I know why.  Either way, I'm fairly sure she only said that so she could keep me here.  Yeah, she's only trying to scare me.  I can survive just fine on my own.  I've been caught once, but that was only because I hesitated.  I didn't run when I needed to because my family had already been taken.  This time it'll be different.  There won't be anyone to slow me down; I'm on my own now.  The gravity of my last thought settled heavily in my mind as I slid into half-asleep memories of my family and the life I used to know.

No, what the hell!?  I'm back in the petstore.  How?  Did Liz give me back?  I was standing in my old cage, staring at the view of cat food in front of me.  Ironic that they put my kind next to this particular section.  Sometimes cat food is exactly what we end up as.  Cats are the most lethal thing you could get caught by in a human house, next to mouse traps, of course.  It was rumored that the person who discovered our kind had done so because they found someone dead inside one.  I turned a tight circle in my cage, surveying everything.  Was it always this cramped?  Suddenly, the mesh behind me cracked open and a large human hand pushed its way into my cage.  

I screamed, but no sound reached my ears.  I scrambled for my sad little cot, the one thing I could possibly hide under.  Too little too late.  The hand encompassed me from all sides, crushing the air from my lungs as the human yanked me backwards out of my cage.  I recognized this human, but at the same time, I didn't.  This was the human who liked to torture me while he was sopposed to be cleaning our cages.  My brain recognized him, yet he looked terrifyingly different.  He had the black, soulless eyes of the rats I feared as a child, and a mouth full of sharpened teeth.  I desperately struggled to get away, but he only pulled me closer to his face.  His awful maw glimmered in a nasty smug smile.

"Nice to see you too, little mouse," he whispered in his raspy voice that made my skin crawl.  "It's been a while.  Wanna have some fun?"  This can't be happening.  Not again.  Please, not again.  He pressed me into the table with such force that I gasped for breath.  The human loomed over me, taunting my pathetic struggling with a cruel-sounding laugh.  His fingers snaked their way up my body and I let out another soundless scream.  I could feel his hot breath against my face as he leaned down closely above me.  A finger slid beneath my shirt and my blood ran cold.  "Stop, please!" I begged, sobbing.  The human licked his lips eagerly, as if my pleas only fueled whatever else he had planned for me.

My shirt was torn over my head, leaving me helplessly exposed on the table.  The assholes at the pet store don't give us undergarments.  We're just animals to them.  The only reason we have clothes at all is because we look so similar to humans, and we had to look decent.  I whimpered as he slowly slid a finger down my torso.  It inched aganizonly closer and closer to the hem of my shorts.  He was taking his sweet time, having his fun as I suffered.  With a satisfied exhale, he stuffed his finger into my pants, rubbing the pad of it between my legs.  I whimpered, trying desperately to move away from his touch.  Suddenly, something poked me in the side.  The table vibrated beneath me and my vision swam.  Just as his finger pressed into my crotch, darkness pooled into my vision.

Light was suddenly thrown into my face and I cried out in confused fear.  What's happening now?  "Please, don't!  Don’t touch me!" I begged desperately.  The light swung away from me and I could see the familiar trinkets that decorated my glass cage.  My shirt was still on.  Nothing was rubbing against me besides my blanket.  I was back in Liz's room.  It was a dream.  Well, more like a memory.  

Immediately, I started bawling — both from stress and out of relief that none of it was really happening.  Liz stood beside me.  No doubt it was her that had poked me in the side, waking me up.  That, I was grateful for.  "You're ok," Liz whispered as I continued sobbing, "It was a dream, you're alright."  I hugged myself tight and slowly lifted my head, giving her a longing glance.

I don't know what it was I wanted right then.  A hug, maybe?  My family?  My own kind?  All of which were impossible.  I sat with my knees pressed into my chest, rocking back and forth on the mattress beneath me.  Liz dropped a hand down carefully beside my bed and offered me a bottlecap of water.  I accepted it with shaking hands and took a sip, placing the cap on the floor beside my bed.  Her fingers drifted behind me, slowly rubbing small circles into my back.  It wasn't a dehumanizing petting, but rather a kind gesture.  She was trying to calm me down as best she could without scaring me with her human-ness.  

Liz still cares about me.  Even though we fought and I've yelled at her countless times, Liz still cares about me.  She had so many opportunities to hurt me, and would’ve had zero repercussions for doing so.  She’d locked me in, but she was only trying to protect me.  Why?  Because she's a good person, I realized.  I doubt she was even trying to trick me this whole time.  She just genuinely wants to be a good friend.  

The realization kinda just broke me — right then and there.  I whirled around and grasped her finger in a fierce hug.  I don't care what the rules say about assuming the worst of humans.  This human deserves better than that.  From the moment she found out my secret, she tried to give me my freedom back in the safest way she could think of.  Of course, her plans were all flawed, but she was human.  I couldn’t expect too much from her.  I didn’t expect this much from her.

Liz sucked in a surprised breath of air at my touch, and her arm went completely still.  Seconds later, she seemed to break as well.  Her hand curled beneath me, lifting me up and out of the cage.  Honestly, I wasn't even scared.  At this point, I’ve figured she's not going to hurt me.  Liz cupped her hands together, letting me curl up between them.  I could feel her pulse through her fingertip as I continued to hug it tight.  I concentrated on it.  It beat soft and rhythmic against my erratically racing heart.  In the moments afterward, everything drifted away.  My pulse slowed to match her own as I took a couple shaky breaths.  The only thing left of the world was our synchronized heartbeat.

Sleep came for me, but it wasn't long before memories bubbled up again and I was dragged awake in fright.  When I came to, I realized neither my bed nor Liz's hands were beneath me.  I sat up in a panic at the unfamiliar place around me.  "It's alright," Liz's voice reassured me from behind, "You're safe."  She sounded really close, and when I turned to see her, I understood why.  Liz was laying down on her bed with me laying on the pillow beside her.  My face flushed when I recognized where I'd been sleeping.  "You fell asleep in my hands," she explained, "I didn't have the heart to put you back in that cage."  I smiled slightly, recognizing that she made an effort to refer to my fake prison as that cage rather than your cage.  

"Thank you," I whispered in gratitude, "I-  You don't mind if I stay here tonight, do you?"  Liz shook her head, "As long as you're comfortable."  Shockingly, I was comfortable.  More so than I have been in a while, actually.  I'm sure 'sleeping with a human' broke about 20 different rules, but I'd already broken the most fundamental ones; now it doesn't matter how many I break.  

“Even when you fell asleep you were restless.  The only time you weren’t groaning or moving was while I was holding you,” Liz explained quietly.  “Would you.. rather be closer again?”  I sat up, scrutinizing her expression beside me.  At first I thought she was pitying me, but by the light of a single street lamp outside the window, I could tell it was actually worry that clouded her expression.  I nodded very slightly.  I don’t want to have any more twisted memories tonight.

Gentle fingers slid around my sides.  It was like nothing I’d ever felt before.  All the experiences I’ve had with this have been horrible and frightening — human strength threatening to snap me into pieces.  But Liz’s touch was different; it was so much lighter.  I drifted through the air before being eased down onto her chest.  A few seconds passed before I even took a breath.  

“Th- Thank you,” I whispered in awe.  Eventually, I managed to get control of myself, and I sleepily settled back down, curled up on my side.  With my ear pressed to her chest like this, I can hear each even breath rush into her lungs somewhere below me.  Again, Liz's heartbeat lulled me to sleep, and this time no nightmares came to haunt me.  I slept in blissful, dreamless sleep the rest of the night.

When I woke the next morning, I sat alone on Liz's empty bed.  I could hear the shower running from the conjoined bathroom, though.  If I listened closely enough, I could hear her singing quietly to herself.  The moment brought me to the day I'd accidentally revealed my secret.  Looking back…  I regret it.  It's not that I don't appreciate Liz's inexplicable kindness towards me; it's because I do — more than she knows.  It makes leaving so much harder than it should have been.  I'm escaping, I told myself, not leaving.  I can't live behind glass.  I need freedom.  This whole illusion will shatter the second Liz stops caring about me.  It's only a matter of time.  Leave.  Before you get hurt trying to have something you can't.  

Last night was… a fluke.  A moment of weakness, for both of us.  Just then, Liz stepped out of the bathroom with a fresh outfit and a mop of wet hair.  She took one look at me sitting on her bed and smiled.  Her genuine pleasure in seeing me here almost deterred me from my escape plans entirely.  “Good morning,” Liz addressed me, kneeling beside the bed so we were more level with each other.  “I’ll have to put you back on the dresser while I go make breakfast.  Is that alright?”  Obviously, I would rather have walked over there myself, but without my climbing gear I wouldn’t make it very far.  I nodded, sighing, “Just don’t drop me.”  Liz offered her upturned hand and I stilled.

I’d barely been conscious last night when she’d picked me up.  I was tired and in desperate need of comfort.  Now, with her hand spread out beside me, longer than I am tall, my instincts started protesting against it.  I took a few cautious steps towards Liz and hesitantly placed a hand over one of her fingers, feeling the heat radiating off her skin.  “Wren.”  Hearing my name, I snapped out of my stupor and glanced past Liz’s outstretched digits to her face.  “Yes?”  “You know I would never hurt you, right?”  When I stayed silent instead of answering, she pulled her hand away, her voice growing more solemn.  “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.  If you’re having nightmares because of me, I’ll leave you alone.  Promise.”

My eyes widened at the offer.  It was tempting to tell Liz to leave; it would make my escape more bearable.  However, I don’t want her to think my night terrors are about something she’s done, when in reality, they have nothing to do with her.  

"I-  Last night, my dream wasn't about you," I confessed, "It was just bad memories about the pet store I lived in, that's all."  Liz gloomily avoided my gaze, "I told you you'd end up there last night before you went to bed..  I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry.  I wouldn't let that happen to you."  I assumed she wouldn't have actually sent me back, but hearing her say it aloud was tons more reassuring.  "Here," Liz began, standing to shuffle through the box she'd grabbed the day before.  "How about I put up some rope for you like you asked?  That way you can travel around, yourself."

I watched in disbelief as Liz fastened a few pieces of string around the room in various hard-to-get-to places.  She had, albeit unknowingly, given me a clear opportunity to escape.  After setting up several lengths of rope, Liz headed downstairs to get breakfast and I got to climbing.  Scaling the bed was easy.  Its side is made of fabric so I could find a foothold or handhold virtually anywhere.  The lower half was lifted off the ground by a wooden frame, but it wasn't so high that I couldn't just drop the rest of the way to the floor.  

After wandering around the carpeted floors of Liz's room, I came across one of the outlets I'd spotted from my vantage point in the cage.  It's only a few inches — in human measurements — off the floor.  Easily reachable with a small amount of climbing rope and a grapple.  Obviously, I have no grapple on me, so I instead returned to the top of the dresser where the cage is, opting to sit on the ledge to wait for Liz rather than going back inside the awful glass box.  Not that I could, anyway.  The lock was still duct taped shut from last night.

My breakfast and Liz arrived shortly after I'd scaled the dresser.  She placed my meal on the table in my cage and peeled away the tape with a slightly guilty expression.  Liz turned away and looked over the distance I'd traveled with an impressed nod.  "Did my ropes work alright?" she asked once I'd settled down to eat.  I nodded, mouth too full to speak.  The meal was heavenly; Liz had brought a little bit of something made from eggs that I don’t know how to pronounce.  However, whenever I tried to plan a way to craft a grapple, my stomach churned like I'd eaten something rotten or raw.  Originally, I'd have chalked it up to nervousness, but the feeling wasn't quite the same.  After nearly blanching seeing Liz return to my cage, smiling at me warmly, I realized that I wasn't actually nervous.  My sickness stemmed from guilt.

Guilt for leaving?  Never.  I want to leave.  Guilt for leaving Liz alone after all she's done for me?  Leaving her to think she was the reason I’d left?  Maybe.  Ok, yes.  Fine.  It's not like I have to leave right this minute, though.  Besides, I still need a grapple.  Oh, and it would be nice if I could have Liz take me around the house while no one's home.  That way, I could map out the layout of everything beforehand.  It Is always best to be prepared, right?  

As I tried to calm my stomach into eating the rest of my glorious meal, Liz began working at something on her desk.  Because of where the desk is, she was sitting with her back turned; I couldn't tell what she was doing.  Curious, I finished my meal and stepped back out of the cage.  "What are you doing over there?" I asked.  Silence.  At first I thought she was ignoring me, then I noticed Liz's foot was tapping along to an unhearable rhythm.  She was listening to music.

I sighed, realizing I'd have to walk all the way across the room to get Liz's attention.  Expertly, I made my way down the newly fashioned climbing rope by the edge of the dresser.  The trip over wouldn't be all that difficult for me, it's just tiring.  Wandering the room, I again stopped at the outlet that was close to the floor.  It's so perfect, it's like it's beckoning to me.  Just then, the door to Liz's room opened wide.  

"Liz honey, I was wondering if-  AHH!"  I flinched at the scream.  My borrower's sense raced and my mind panicked, convinced I was caught in the act of escape.  "Liz's pet escaped!" her mother called down the hallway, "Ron, come catch it before it gets in the walls!"  I could barely hear Liz's protests against the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears.  I dashed behind a beanbag chair sitting by the outlet, pressing myself to the wall.  Moments later, my hiding spot was dragged away.  A cardboard box hung ominously in the air above me.  

Crying out in terror, I threw myself into a ball on the floor, instinct reacting how I'd been taught.  "No!  Wait!  Stop!  I let her out, it was fine!  I was watching her!"  Liz's voice was joined by a few others, both of which sounded harsh and angry.  I didn't dare move a muscle.  Footsteps thundered around me, their vibrations shaking everything.  Briefly, the image of a human's foot coming down on top of me flashed through my mind.  I whimpered at the horrible notion that my life could very easily end right here.  

Something tapped the floor scarily close to my head, and I scrambled away in shock.  It was Liz, trying to get my attention.  Both her parents were still scolding her, but she had her back turned to them and offered me her hand.  I gratefully scrambled on, clinging to her fingers.  Though it was by no means safe, Liz's hands were a hell of a lot safer than the floor where I could be stepped on or boxed up.  "You can't have that thing running around the house like that!" her mother warned, "You have to watch it carefully."  "Mmhm," her father added, "They can hide in a matter of seconds, Lizzie.  You can't let it out of your sight.  Your mother will have a fit if it gets into the walls."  

Liz's chastised expression drifted between her parents and me.  The longer they spoke, the more furious I became.  I wanted so badly to join in on the argument.  I'd give Liz's parents a piece of my mind.  The audacity they had to call me an 'it', to speak about me as if I were a dumb little animal.  However, I realized that was the entire point of keeping my mouth shut.  The borrower secret was still alive, at least slightly.  For all they know, I am a dumb little animal.  Humans don't know we're sentient, and we don't want them to know.  So, I kept my mouth shut tight, teeth grinding in loathing as I sat in Liz's hand.  

Eventually, after Liz repeatedly promised to look after me better, her parents left.  She locked the door behind them and brought me to her desk, setting me on its surface.  "I'm… really sorry," Liz apologized quietly, "Are you alright?"  Her fingers hovered around me, unsure whether she should search me for any injuries.  I nodded, "I'm alright.  I'm just a bit shaken."  "I- I didn't even realize you were on the floor.  What were you doing out there?"  I tried hard not to give myself away, but I couldn't help glancing at the electrical socket I'd been looking at before I'd been spotted.

As if in slow motion, Liz turned and followed my gaze.  She stared at the place I'd been standing for a long moment.  "I- I was trying to get to you!" I said quickly.  Liz turned back to me with a crestfallen expression.  "I wanted to see what you were working on over here," I explained in a hurry, "You were listening to music.  You didn't hear me call out to you.  I thought, with my new climbing ropes, that I could just come to you myself, but then your mom came in and saw me."  Liz only stared at me numbly.  "Wh- What?" I stammered.  Her gaze drifted to the electrical socket again.  "You want to leave."  Liz's statement revertibrated hollowly through my core.  "No!  No, I-"  "I've seen you staring at that outlet before.  I know you use those to get around houses.  I can put two and two together, Wren."  She turned back to me, and I expected her to scold me for trying to run away, though I wasn't, at least not right then.  However, Liz just looked gut-wrenchingly sad.  

"I understand if you want to run away.  Humans have treated you so horribly, I'm surprised you haven't tried to get out of here sooner.  But…" she took a shuddering breath.  Here it comes, I thought bitterly, 'but you can't leave because you're a little pet and I don't want you to.'  "But you can't stay here."  I was so confused, I didn't even understand what she'd said.  "What?" I asked faintly.  "You can't stay here," Liz repeated, "It isn't safe.  There are traps in the walls; I watched them get set up.  And if my mother found you.. it wouldn't be good.  There are better houses than this one, trust me."  

Liz is just… letting me go?  "You- You don't want me to stay?" I asked.  I immediately regretted it when Liz's eyes moistened with tears.  "Of course I want you to stay!" she cried, "You mean so much to me, and the thought of you getting caught or sold again makes me feel sick.  But I don't want you to feel trapped here!"  "I don't!" I yelled over her increasingly upset voice.  "I don't feel trapped here; I feel the opposite of trapped!  I have too much freedom here!  So much freedom that I feel like I should run away just because I know I can, but I don't want to!  Every time I think of escape, I feel guilty.  I don't want to leave, but my instincts keep telling me I should run while I still can."

Now my own eyes fuzzed over with hot tears.  "I don't want to live in another house where I'll have to hide and be alone.  I want to live here, with you.  You don't treat me like I'm worthless or below you, like the other humans.  Ever since you found out my secret, you've tried to treat me like another human, but you can’t because that would put me in danger.  You.. You treat me like a friend, and I don't want to lose that," I explained weakly.  

Liz's eyes widened, tears drying up before they could come leaking out.  "Then stay."  She spoke so softly that I almost couldn't hear her.  Oh how badly I wanted to.  How badly I wanted to live the rest of my life with the one human in the world who cares.  But I can't live in a cage.  I won't be confined to a box just because Liz's stupid mother thinks I'll go crazy in the walls, or whatever the hell she's so afraid I'll do.  "I want to," I said ruefully, "but I want freedom more."  

Liz sat silently for the longest time.  Eventually, she was called out of her room for something, and she stood.  "I'm taking you back to the dresser," she said monotonously, "You'll be safe from my parents there."  "What about my freedom?" I asked nervously.  "I need some time to come up with a plan," Liz said, "but if I don't figure it out by tomorrow, I'll take you to a house where you'll be safer."  My stomach dropped.  Liz held out her hand and I numbly sat down, waiting for her to bring me across the room.  Once I was deposited by the glass walls, Liz stepped out of the room and disappeared.  

I trudged over to my bed and sat on the end, staring at nothing.  After a few moments, the tears building up behind my eyes came flooding out.  I bawled into my pillows, heaving sobs echoing around the stupid glass box.  It just wasn't fair.  All I wanted was freedom and to be treated with an ounce of respect.  Was the world really that cruel as to deny me those?  Yes.  I already know the answer.  I just hoped that by some miracle I could be given a different one.

My head was buried so deep beneath my pillows that the daylight stung when it slid through.  It had been hours since Liz left, and my stomach had been tying itself in knots for what felt like forever, until the bedroom door burst open so violently it ricocheted off the wall behind it with a thunderous, wobbly noise.  I bolted upright, heart flinging into my throat.  "I know what I have to do!" Liz's ecstatic voice bounced off the glass walls a bit too loudly.  Noticing my reaction, Liz opened the side door and motioned for me to step out of my awful prison.  "Wren, I've got it!" she exclaimed, "I know how to get you freedom right here in the house."  

It sounded too good to be true.  Impossible, even.  "How?  I thought you said there were traps in the walls."  "That's just it," Liz began, "You won't live in the walls!"  She brought her hand up to me again, but I hesitated.  "Where will I live?" I asked uncertainly.  "Come on, I'll show you."

Liz waited patiently as I slowly stepped up onto her palm.  The sudden switch between getting around myself and letting Liz move me was a bit sudden.  I could have walked over if I wanted to, but I was curious about the plan Liz concocted.  She is a good human; I trust she won't hurt me.  After situating myself on Liz's palm, I watched the world shift around me.  I was taken to the bookshelf on the other side of Liz's bed.  "Look," she began, pulling back a stack of books with her free hand.  "There's all this space behind here, and a hole at the back for electrical cords."  She placed me on the shelf and I took a few hesitant steps forward.  The bookshelf was much deeper than any of the books, so they sat like a wall, blocking out a hidden empty space between the back of the bookcase and the books themselves.  The hole that Liz told me about was a cut-out semicircle in the middle of the back wall, level with the shelf.  With a full case of books, the place Liz picked for me wasn't all that bad.  The walls would be better, of course.  That's the best place to stay away from humans.  However, I don't want to stay away from Liz, I just need somewhere normal to live — not a glass box.

"It's.. almost perfect," I replied after looking things over.  "I have all sorts of things to decorate it too!" Liz said excitedly.  For a brief moment, I thought she was talking about the dollhouse-looking objects from the cage, but she pulled out a small plastic container from a drawer.  "I used to decorate my desk with these little strings of lights, but I think they'll make for some nice lighting in your new home, don't you think?" Liz asked, holding up the container.  I nodded, relieved.  "Yes, those are perfect, thank you."  I searched the shelf a bit more thoroughly, planning how I wanted everything to look, and what I might need to borrow.  

"So, what's the plan?  What do I have to do to ditch that awful thing?" I asked, gesturing at the glass box.  "Don't worry about that.  The plan mostly involves me pretending to screw up and lose you in the walls somewhere.  My mom might even call the exterminators."  I went ridgid at the mention of those people.  "They won't find you," Liz reassured me, "You won't actually have run away, so even if they do come, they won't find anything.  You’ll be right with me the whole time, and they wouldn’t think to check with me."  Taking a few deep breaths to calm myself, I thought through Liz's idea.

"Ok,” I began, talking through the plan, “so you pretend to lose me, and I hide with you.  Your parents freak out, but they won't find me and think I ran away into another house.  Then, when the coast is clear and everything dies down, I… I get to live freely again."  My voice tapered off in excited awe.  If this plan really does work, I can get my life back.  The realization sunk in and I beamed up at Liz.  She held out her hand for me to climb on, but I grabbed it instead, hugging her fingers fiercely.  

"Thank you," I said, tears choking my voice.  "Hey, don't celebrate too soon," Liz reminded me, "We haven't actually pulled this off yet."  "I know," I answered, "I'm not thanking you for my grand escape.  I'm thanking you for caring about me enough to figure this all out.  I don't know how in the world I got this lucky, getting chosen by a human who cares.  I thought they were a myth."  Liz chuckled, "Well in that case, you're very welcome."

Liz glanced over at the glass container on her dresser.  “I don’t want to ‘lose’ you right away,” she added, “It’ll look too suspicious that you disappeared right after I got in trouble for letting you out.”  “Oh,” I said disappointedly.  I understood her logic, though.  Liz wanted this to seem as realistic as possible, because things would go horribly for me if her parents suspected I was still in the house.  “I’m thinking Friday, five days from today.  What do you think?” Liz asked.  “As long as I’m out of there by the end of the month, I could care less,” I responded.  

The days passed by agonizingly slowly.  I hate sitting around idly knowing how much work I have ahead of me.  As a borrower, I’m used to constantly working on something.  Even in my cage at the pet store, I busied myself with analyzing the humans that passed by.  Here in the glass cage in Liz’s empty room, I had nothing to do but bide my time until Liz came back from a place called high school.  I’m not used to having this much free time.  I wanted to explore the room, maybe look for more hidden places I could build into living spaces, but after the scare of Liz’s mom walking in on me outside the cage, I decided it was safer to stay put.  I didn’t dare imagine what might’ve happened if Liz hadn’t been there to protect me.  I’d been terrifyingly close to getting captured in another box.  

As the week stretched on endlessly, Liz and I crafted some things for my new home.  Every day, after she returned from school, Liz took the time to open the cage door.  I’d traverse the room and stash a few things for later, which Liz happily hid for me in her desk drawer.  

Once she came back with a completely different attitude, though.  She hadn’t even acknowledged me; she just sat on the edge of her bed looking at nothing.  “Liz?” I said questioningly.  I watched her flinch slightly.  When she turned to me, she looked so disheartened I thought something had happened to our plans.  “I…  I was just in my sister’s room.  She was h- having trouble with the other borrower.  I forgot about her pet being.. one of you.  I didn’t remember because she always calls them an ‘it’.”  I could feel the color drain from my face.  “What..  What happened?”  Slowly, her eyes drifted to me, then quickly darted away.

“Aubrey set up some fake scene, and wanted her.. her pet to be in a little car for a few pictures.  The borrower.. she didn’t fit.  That car was just the wrong scale, but my sister didn’t care.  She stuffed her in there — the borrower.  She couldn’t even tell her to stop because, you know, your kind isn’t supposed to speak to us.  Her-”  Liz took a shaking breath before continuing.  “Her arm dislocated.  The metal pieces of the car sliced her up.  She.. Wren, she looked awful.”  Now Liz had turned back to me, tears in her eyes.  “And the worst part?  Aubrey couldn’t even get her out.  She didn’t tell my parents because she thought they would punish her or take away her stupid little pet.  The borrower — poor thing — she was stuck in that car for a day and a half before my sister came to me, begging me not to tell anyone.”

My whole body ricocheted with shudders.  I couldn’t imagine going through that, much less without speaking to my torturer — begging them to help or stop or something.  “Wh- What did you do?” I asked quietly.  “I told my sister to get an exacto knife.  The car’s outer part is plastic.  I would cut her out of there if I had to, to make sure she got out with the least amount of injuries.  The borrower, god, she was so scared.  I could see it in her face.  The moment I sent my sister for the knife she snapped out of the whole playing dumb act.  She didn’t speak to me, but she looked right at me like I was going to kill her.”  Liz’s breath hitched on a sob.  

“I- I got her out, but she shrieked the whole time.  She.. she really thought I was going to hurt her.  Aubrey grabbed her the moment she was free.  It was scary; she only made the borrower’s cuts start bleeding again.  I swear she said something — probably tried begging my sister to put her down — but I spoke over her so she wouldn’t ruin the secret.  I convinced Aubrey to let me patch her up.  I got her cuts to stop bleeding, but she gave me that pathetic stare again the whole time.  When I tried to put her arm back into place she spoke to me.  It was barely intelligible over her sobbing, so I pretended not to notice for the sake of the secret.”  I was outside the cage now, standing at the very edge of the dresser.  “What did she say?”  “J- Just begging,” Liz replied in a thin whisper.  “She just kept begging me to make the pain stop.  I popped her shoulder into place and she passed out.  I thought.. I- I thought she’d died.”

“She didn’t though, right?” I asked nervously.  Liz shook her head, “No, she survived.  But who knows how long that’ll last.”  After that, she became too choked up to say anything more.  As fast I could manage, I made my way down the dresser and across the room to her.  Seeing me standing in front of her, Liz sank to the floor and gently scooped me up, hugging me to her chest.  “If I ever made you feel that scared of me, I’m…  I’m so sorry.  Please believe that I would never do that kind of thing to you.”  I pressed myself closer against her.  “It’s ok, Liz.  It- It’ll be fine.  I haven’t been afraid of you like that for a while now.”  I know it won’t be fine — at least not for the poor soul in the other room.  However, we couldn’t help them.  We were already risking so much with our plan.  If we tried to break out the other borrower, it would be nearly impossible not to get caught.  Then neither of us would be free.

The night before the big plan day, I sat on the edge of Liz’s desk, having scaled its side with the rope that she’d attached to it.  I worried over the plan, fidgeting with the hem of my clothes.  

“Hey,” Liz said, shaking me from thought.  She’d been working on something called ‘homework’ that she didn’t really want to do, but apparently had to.  “I have something for you.”  I turned around, surprised.  “Call it a housewarming gift,” she continued, “Earlier you said that you wanted a grapple like the one you had before all this.”  I nodded; I had in fact admitted that to her.  Though I don’t need it to run away anymore, it would still be nice to have, especially for scaling the bookshelf.  Liz fished out a few items and laid them out in front of me.  A length of string, but most importantly, a shining metal paperclip.  

“I knew I couldn’t make a grapple myself, but..”  “It’s perfect,” I assured her, “I can make a great grapple from these materials here.  Thank you.”  My nervous jitters faded away as I worked at the string, twining it perfectly so I could keep a solid grip on it as I climbed.  Before I knew it, Liz had to take me back to the cage.  “Say your goodbyes, Liz joked, “Tonight will be your last night sleeping here.”  I smiled giddily.  “Do you think I can keep this bed, or maybe this table and chairs?  They aren’t half bad.”  “You can have whatever you want,” Liz replied.  “Just get some rest, it’ll be a long day tomorrow.”  

Despite immediately heading to bed, I couldn't sleep.  My anxiety had returned, not from being inactive, but by the fact that if Liz and I were caught tricking her parents, I would most likely be sent back to the pet store.  Most of us who get sent back don't live to see our cells again.  If a borrower gets sent back and all the cages are full — and they almost always are with all the shipments of newfound borrowers — the pet store doesn't wait for a vacancy; you get put down right there and then.  It saves space and effort, apparently.  

No matter which way I turned, I couldn't find a comfortable spot.  It didn't help that dark thoughts had begun to crowd my mind.  Finally, I sat up exhausted.  "Liz?"  The bedsheets ruffled, and I could see her outline sit up in the dark.  "Yes?" she replied.  "I- I'm scared," I confessed, "What if we get caught?  What if your parents send me back?"  The room was silent for a moment, then the floorboards creaked.  Liz stepped over to the glass wall beside me.  I stepped out of bed and gazed up at her, bent over to look at me.  

We watched eachother silently through the glass, until she reached over and opened the door on the side of the cage.  Liz sat on the edge of her bed while I came to stand at the front of the dresser.  "I would never let that happen to you," she stated firmly, "Even if my parents do catch us, I'd come up with a plan… I'd think of something.  Surely I could convince them to let me keep you.  Though you'd be stuck in there, it would be better than being sent back, wouldn't it?"  "Yeah," I whispered weakly.

I sucked in a surprised gasp of air as Liz's hands reached towards me.  Her fingers delicately folded around my sides, gently lifting me off the dresser.  She held me close as she slid back into her own bed, placing me on the pillow beside her.  "It's alright to be scared," Liz whispered as she settled in, "I'm scared too.  But I promise you, the worst that can happen is you have to stay in the glass cage, that's all.  I'd still let you out whenever you like, and I would still treat you like a person.  No matter what happens tomorrow, you'll be safe, I'll make sure of it."  

My head spun as I tried to convince myself that things would be fine.  “Can you..  I- I mean…”  Giving up on speech, I slid off the pillow and gently placed a hand on Liz’s side.  I could feel her pulse quicken as I hauled myself onto her chest.  “You don’t mind this, do you?”  Liz shook her head with a soft smile, gently resting a cupped hand around me.  I sighed in relief, snuggling into the softness of the surface beneath me.  Her low breathing was already lulling me to sleep.  I mumbled a soft thanks to Liz before passing out.

In the morning, I was jostled awake by Liz's movements on the bed.  Still half asleep, I let her carry me back to the glass cage.  She opened the top hatch and set me carefully onto my own bed.  Later, she dropped off a portion of her own breakfast for me and headed to school.  Liz had made pancakes, just for me.  I smiled at the kind gesture.  A few months ago, I wouldn't have believed that humans were capable of sympathizing with my kind.  Now here I was eating her same meals and sleeping right with her, and I did so of my own free will.  I'm not a pet and I never really was, at least not for very long.  Hopefully, I won't even have to live in this awful glass box anymore.

It was nerve-wracking waiting for Liz to come back home.  A part of me was glad she was gone, because it meant the plan couldn't be enacted, but another part of me was desperate for her to arrive, because I just might get my freedom back today.  When I finally heard the sound of the front door opening, announcing the return of the humans from school, I could feel nervous momentum building in my stomach.  I was simultaneously thrilled and terrified.  Liz came into the room and I rushed to the side door.  She slid it open and let me out.  "Are you ready?" she asked as I stepped over the threshold for, hopefully, the last time.  I nodded silently, too afraid that if I spoke, I might back out.

"Alright, I'm going to slip you into my pocket now.  Get situated, but try not to move once my parents come in; it might be visible from outside."  Hesitantly, I stepped onto Liz's fingers and slid down into the pocket of her shorts.  The material was scratchy, and it was a bit claustrophobic, but I reminded myself that my freedom was just around the corner, if I could only hold still for a while.  Once I got situated, I couldn't tell what was going on outside, but I felt Liz wandering around, moving things.  Eventually, her weight shifted and she got on the floor.  "Mom!  Dad!  Come quick!  My borrower escaped again and-"  She cut herself off and hit the floor, creating a dull thud, pretending to grab for me.  I instinctively flinched at the sound.  Liz briefly put a hand over the pocket's side, reassuring me that everything was alright.

Moments later, I could hear the muffled sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs.  Between the harshly loud voices of panicked humans, and the jostling movements Liz made, I could tell very little of what was going on.  I held my breath and stayed as still as I could, silently hoping that our plan would succeed.  I didn’t know what Liz was doing, but suddenly the pocket stretched thin, pinning me down and almost suffocating me between two walls of material.  Thrashing in the tight space, I came close to calling out in fear before the tension suddenly released.  I fell to the bottom of the pocket, shaken.  The tight space would thin similarly on occasion, but Liz made sure that the pressure wasn’t as crushing as the first time.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the voices outside died down.  I heard the sound of a door locking, and soon Liz’s fingers slid through the opening above me, carefully working their way around me until she could hoist me up and out of the little space.  I blinked at the brightness of the room, letting my eyes adjust to the light after being stuck in the dark pocket.  “What happened?” I asked once I oriented myself.  Liz sat down at her desk, placing me gently on its surface in front of her.  “I’m grounded,” she stated, “but it worked.  My parents think you ran away.  They’re not even calling the exterminators; it’s too expensive.  My mom’s hoping you get caught in a trap, and my dad thinks you’ve run out of the house.”  “So.. we did it?  I’m free?!”  Liz nodded enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear.

I squealed happily, overjoyed at the good news.  “Just remember that you have to stay hidden now.  You can’t slip up and get caught anymore,” Liz reminded me.  “Yeah, obviously!  That’s how my old life used to be.”  “Let’s get your new place in order,” Liz suggested, offering her upturned hand.  I eagerly slid in, waiting as Liz dug out the stash of things I’d collected, including the grapple I’d been working on.  A few books were removed in order for us to get behind the rest.  Once she put me and my things down on the shelf, Liz took another piece of climbing rope and attached it to the opening behind the shelves.  She measured out the length of it all the way down to the floor.  I made an internal note to make myself some climbing gloves.  I’ll need them if I’m going to scale this bookshelf every day.  

Liz came to my aid with the lightning.  She used a few pieces of duct tape, a rarity item to my kind, to secure the long string of lights around the perimeter of my new home.  A battery box sat in the corner with a little switch on its side, perfect for manipulating the electrical currents.  My old home in the walls had one haphazardly built switch that dug into the electricity in the humans’ house.  It had burst into flames more than a few times.  I remember fearing it when I was younger.  The voltage that shot through the humans’ wiring was enough to instantly fry a borrower alive.  Come to think of it, living in the bookshelf will be a massive upgrade from my old home, which was filled with similar hazards.  We do the best with what we have, but now that I have so much more, I can live comfortably for the first time in my life.  As I continued to settle in, Liz helped me move things around.  She took the furniture from the cage that I'd asked for, and placed it down wherever I pointed to.  With everything in place, Liz left to have dinner while I added final touches to everything.

With the wall of books replaced, my new home was surprisingly dark.  Only a slim ray of light shone from the space above the tops of the books.  However, once I flipped the light switch, the place shone brightly.  I marveled over how amazing my new home was.  As a borrower who's been abducted, sold, and caught numerous times, I'm doing incredibly well for myself.  It's tough work befriending a human, but the advantages are definitely worth it.  Liz came back from her meal with a small portion for me.  I ate on the ledge of my shelf, which would be like a front porch if my home were a human one, and afterwards I got back to work on my grapple.  

"Are you settling in alright?" Liz asked me.  I nodded happily, "This place is better than anything I could've wished for, even before the humans took over.  You have a really good eye for potential borrowing hideouts."  She smiled slightly, "Thanks, I tried to find a secret, out-of-the-way place that would also be a good spot to live in.  My first thought was to make you a home under my bed, because no one would ever find you there, but that wouldn't be nearly as nice a living space."

We talked for a while, then Liz left again, trying not to be too suspicious to her family.  When she came back, she was ready for bed.  "Are you sure that the dollhouse bed is comfortable for you?" Liz whispered once all the lights were off and the house was asleep.  "It's a lot more comfortable than my old bed," I mused, "but if you find anything you think might be better, let me know.  I'm also going to do some borrowing of my own, so I'll see what I find."  "You don't have to do that, you know."  "What?  Go borrowing?" I asked.  "I know I don't have to, but I want to.  It'll make things seem.. almost normal again."  "Almost normal?" Liz echoed.  

Silence pierced the room as I thought longingly of what I still desperately miss.  "My family," I replied in an almost inaudible whisper.  The sheets ruffled as Liz shifted uncomfortably.  "I know you can't make them come back," I added, "You've done so much for me, more than I could ever ask.  But I still miss them."  "I'm sorry."  "Don't be," I said hastily, "It's not your fault we were discovered."  

The room became so quiet afterwards, that I thought Liz had fallen asleep.  I stood up to head back into my own bed, when she spoke.  "It's so awful," Liz said quietly.  "The audacity in the way my kind treats yours.  It almost makes me wish I wasn't a human, so I wouldn't have to be grouped with all the horrible people who are."  I snickered, despite the gloominess in Liz's voice.  "I'm sorry for laughing," I apologized, "It's just..  I used to wish I was human all the time.  I've always been baffled by the way you can go anywhere in the world you want, while me and my kind are stuck in the walls and floors and attics of houses our whole lives."  “Huh,” Liz huffed, “I guess I didn’t think of that.”  

In the morning, Liz congratulated me again on my new freedom, then trudged unhappily downstairs.  Part of her punishment for ‘losing’ me was a bucketload of chores.  Her parents would keep her busy all weekend long.  I felt slightly guilty; it’s my fault Liz is in so much trouble, but then again, it was her plan for this to happen.  Still, I paused work on my grapple to make something for Liz.  I’d have to borrow some thread to make it, so I scaled the dresser and made my way to her desk.  The sewing box that held all the thread sat packed away beside a stack of books.  I climbed up their spines like a wide ladder, grinning in satisfaction once I made it to the top.  Good to see my skills haven’t deteriorated over the past few months.  I popped open the large clip on the side of the box, carefully pushing back the lid.  The amount of items stashed away in there is astounding.  I could make use of every last little thing.  However, as per borrowing rules, I can only take what I need, not what I want.  Even if the needles sticking out of that pincushion do look very enticing.

Carefully, I bent over the rim of the box, reaching down into its depths to pull out a wheel of thread.  The cover of the book beneath me slid slightly as I bent over.  My fingers could touch the edge of the spool.  Just a little further…  The surface beneath me jolted backwards, unbalanced by my weight.  I feel head over heels into the pile of knickknacks below.  Maybe my borrowing skills had deteriorated a bit after all.  Thankfully I hadn’t fallen on anything sharp.  Glancing up at the top of the box, I charted a rather hazardous path back out.  My balance just isn’t what it used to be, though.  Even as I tried to get out, the items I climbed up collapsed beneath me, leaving me no possible escape.  This wasn’t too worrying.  Liz would help me out when she got back.  However, when the door to the bedroom opened, her mother stepped in instead.

Stifling a gasp, I quickly buried myself beneath some of the items around me, praying that the human hadn’t spotted me.  I couldn’t see what she was doing from my hidden spot, but I could feel her footsteps wandering the room.  They were so close to leaving, but paused just before the desk and the door.  “Oh, that’s where the sewing box went.”  A cold chill wrung down my spine.  I pressed myself further into the box of items.  The whole thing darkened as the lid was snapped back into place.  A slight sickness built in my stomach as my hiding spot was lifted up and carried off.  

After a few minutes of swaying that threatened to make me vomit, the box was placed in a closet.  My world went completely dark as the human closed the closet door behind her.  My thoughts spiraled in panic.  Would Liz still be able to find me in here?  I have limited time now.  The sealed box only trapped so much air inside.  Once it ran out…  I scrambled out of hiding and tried in vain to at least open the box again, but it was clipped shut from the outside.  Please come and get me, I silently begged Liz.  The irony of my situation was humiliating.  I’ve just got my freedom back, now I’m going to die before properly using it.  

I waited with bated breath, trying to conserve what little air I had.  If I ever do get out of here, Liz is never going to let me go borrowing again.  I’m just out of practice, that’s all.  Maybe I should’ve started with something a bit easier to borrow.  For a long while, I sat alone.  The edges of my vision were beginning to fuzz over.  At first I thought I was imagining it, but as I turned my head around and grew dizzy, I realized it was getting harder to breathe as well.  I had to take larger and larger breaths just to satisfy my lungs.  It seemed like hours had passed since I was trapped here, but I couldn't tell.  I couldn't even think straight anymore.  My nerves spiked as light suddenly filtered into the box.  By that time, I could barely move.  I just lay on the bottom of the box, gasping for breath.  Numb from my time in solitude, I could hardly process what happened.  I could faintly hear the click of the latch opening, and the sound of someone gasping in horror.  The touch of fingers the length of my body brushed my skin.  

Again and again I slipped in and out of consciousness, until something heavy pumped methodically into my chest.  Suddenly, my eyes shot open.  I desperately gulped up as much air as I could.  “Wren!” Liz cried, “Oh my gosh, are you alright!?”  I couldn’t even speak; all I could do was lay on my side and try not to fall back into unconsciousness.  "I'm…  I'm ok," I answered between breaths.  "I came to talk to you, but you weren't here!” Liz exclaimed, “The only other thing that was missing was the sewing box, so I assumed that's where you were."  "Thanks," I wheezed, "I don't know how much longer I would've lasted in there."  "You have to be careful, Wren," Liz warned.  Sighing, I moved to sit up.  My head spun slightly, and my vision fuzzed in and out.  I clutched my head and squeezed my eyes tightly shut to try and stop the after-effects of my near suffocation.  Liz handed me a bottle cap filled with water, which I guzzled down immediately.  

"Why didn't you just wait for me?" Liz asked gently, "I could've given you whatever you needed."  I shook my head slightly, knowing she would ask me something like that.  "I want to do things myself," I explained, "Now that I'm free, I want to go back to living normally — taking care of myself rather than waiting on some human to take care of me.  Not that you haven't been doing a good job of it," I added quickly.  Liz's face scrunched in thought for a moment.  "I get it," she said after a while, "You want to have someone around to help out, but not to help with everything, just the bigger things you might not be able to do.  In other words, a friend, not a caretaker."  I smiled, thankful that Liz surprisingly did understand what I meant.  You never know with humans.  Sometimes they just don't get it.  

I preferred not to get back into the box I'd been held captive in, so I enlisted Liz's help to get me some thread.  She gave me more than enough of it, but I could certainly use the extra lengths.  Maybe I could sew some new clothes for myself later, once I find some decent materials that the humans won't miss.

After that incident, I took things a bit slower.  I'd rushed back into my old way of life a bit too quickly.  A week or so passed as I let myself adapt to my new surroundings.  Yes, I've been living in this house for months now, but I've never properly explored it.  I expanded my ventures further and further from Liz's room.  Before I was fully allowed out, Liz tested me on different necessary things that I'd been taught earlier in my life.  With a few training sessions under my belt, I refreshed my memory on everything from finding split-second hiding places, to learning what items the humans of the household would or wouldn't miss.  During my last day of training, I managed to hide so well that Liz couldn't find me, even after searching for half an hour and knowing many of my favorite hiding spots.  

Once she trusted my borrowing skills, Liz started letting me off on different levels of the house to gather supplies.  Normally, I used the spaces between walls to get from place to place, but with the intricate, borrower-specific traps set up inside them, I opted to stick with something a bit safer, and faster too.  Finally, my life was starting to take shape again.  All the endless days at the petstore worrying over how many days I had left suddenly seemed like nothing but a bad dream.  Though, sometimes memories would come back to haunt me in real nightmares.

Just like the first time, Liz was always there to comfort me.  Whenever I woke up in a cold sweat, I'd slip out onto the bookshelf and quietly call for her.  Every time, Liz would carefully pull me into her open palms and place me gently onto her chest.  I know it's corny and babyish, but sleeping closer to Liz seemed to be a cure-all for anything awful that might have happened over the course of the day.  She doesn't just save me from nightmares, sometimes it’s homesickness for my family, and sometimes it’s something simple like a bad supply run. 

Over time, being Liz's roommate and friend became less of a hassle and more of something genuine.  Earlier, it took everything I had, and sometimes a bit more, to keep our relationship on good terms.  Now, even during the rare times we do fight, I never worry that our unlikely friendship might fall apart.  I've never felt this content before.  For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I can spend the rest of my life right here, doing just this.

[lycaeas]

here's a song i wrote like last week about that "this month has been a hard year" kind of feeling

GOD IT'S ONLY JANUARY (lyrics under cut)

i'll be running down the hill to the fountain when red starts spreading through the mountains you'll be in your bed, a book over your head that's how i think of you

as for me? it's been raining like a son of a bitch the news says that the worst ain't even over, it feels like i can't get dry, whether it's the rain or crying like i always do

and the dog got sick. he doesn't know it yet but i'll be back in town to take him to the drive thru, to the vet then we'll bury him somewhere where the ground is always wet unless it's burning through

god, it's only january

i've been micromanaging conversations 'tween my lovers and my kindred relations keeping spirits high, thinking that i'd rather die than draw a line with you

and that damn book! well it ain't gonna write itself but it's empty in my head like it's empty on the shelf maybe eveybody lied when they said that i could write a pretty line or two

can't stop thinking of war. yeah, you know the one-- it kinda fucked up my whole family, picking fights, getting shunned so i scream and cry about it 'til there's nothing in my lungs for them to misconstrue

god, it's only january i think i left the best of me in some old diary i hope nobody ever reads a catalogue of when i had beauty, i had friends funny how all that ends with the world

god, it's only january the sun was out and i felt free hate that i turn so quickly from that to thunderstorms, but we move on, like we're taught keep the faith, getting caught red handed at the end of the world

of the world

[wayfayrr]

For the 100 followers Gratz btw taking four to a big library

Thank you!!! I've set this one in reader's world because I think it suits the ask the best, I hope you like it ✨✨

"Hey guys I'm going out for a bit, don't ruin my house alright?"

"If you don't mind [name], would it be alright for me to join you?"

There’s no harm in that, really getting them out of the house and more used to the area can’t hurt. If anything bringing him to the library with me can only be a good thing; I can get him more familiar with some of my world's history. 

“Sure, as long as you don't mind going to a library. Wind’s just asked me to go pick up some books for his classes and it’s just easier to get them there.”

“Anywhere is perfect as long as I’m with you. Anywhere would be good as long as I can get out for a bit.”

“I can’t blame you actually, You've not left my house since you got here have you?”

Staying anywhere for over a week straight without getting out would drive nearly anyone insane, let alone someone so used to living where he can go as he pleases when he pleases. I should’ve realised that far sooner than I have, how long has he been struggling with this? Even if it is only to the library, getting him out is better than leaving him stuck inside any longer. The sooner we leave the better it’ll be for Four’s sanity.

“No, I haven’t, getting out for a bit sounds wonderful.”

Him taking my hand in his was the only sign I needed to get going, picking up a bag to bring back the books as well as grabbing my library card. I started to head out with him, it doesn’t take long to get there from my house. 

“Now that I think of it, are there any things you’d be interested in reading?”

“Are there any about smithing in your world? I'd like to compare the different techniques. I’d also like to know about how courting works here.”

“With the size of the library, there’s bound to be. I’ll help you look for some after I grab the books Wind needs unless you’d like to go off on your own that is?”

“That sounds good, I’d prefer to stay with you seeing as I don’t know the area all that well.”

With that decided it’s just a matter of going into the library now, and how I’ve missed the feeling of this place. The smell of old books, the quiet, the higher ceilings and walls of books; it’s like a second home to me. Four looks like he shares at least some of my admiration, what with how he’s staring at the architecture. So gently tugged at his hand to get him to follow me to the section I need, then slowly starting to take the books I’d been asked to get. 

“Do you come here often then, because it’s stunning. It’s almost as stunning as you.”

“Not as often as I really should. I’m glad I’ve gotten the chance to, even if it’s just to get Wind some school books.”

“If you wanted, I wouldn’t mind coming with you more often…”

“What like a date?”

“If you wanted it to be…”

Picking up the last book on Wind’s list, now I’m free to explore what four wants to read at least until it’s time to go and get these loaned out to me. Finding where the books Four’s interested in reading is a somewhat hard task, with the size of this place, the only thing stopping us from taking days is how well-labelled every shelf is. 

“Oh! They’ve got a whole section on metallurgy, this is perfect for learning about smithing here!”

“Metallurgy?”

“It’s a study of how metals react chemically as well as how we purify them to work with. I think you’d really enjoy it.”

That seemed to peak his attention, seeing as he picked up a couple of books as soon as I explained what it was.

 “Ready to go then?”

“Actually, I’d rather stay for a little longer if that’s alright?”

[mywifeleftme]

365: Patti Smith // Horses

Horses Patti Smith 1975, Arista

There’s a man named Nicky Drumbolis who lives up in Thunder Bay, Ontario, in an apartment that doubles as perhaps Canada’s greatest bookstore almost no one has ever seen. The septuagenarian Drumbolis is short and nearly deaf, a master printmaker and eccentric autodidact linguist. For years he ran a second-hand shop on Toronto’s Queen St. called Letters, until push (the size of his collection) came to shove (skyrocketing rent) and he went north, where he could afford a sufficiently large space to spread out. Unfortunately, Thunder Bay has little market for antiquarian books and micro press ephemera, and his shop is located on one of the most crime-ridden streets in the country. And so, the transplanted Letters has no storefront—in fact, the building looks derelict, its windows boarded up and covered with what at first glance seems to be graffiti but on closer inspection resembles a detail from the cave paintings at Lascaux. Letters’ patronage is limited to the online traffic in rare first editions that brings him a small income, and the occasional by-appointment adventurer willing to make the long, long 1,400 km drive from Toronto or further abroad.

When you enter, you find yourself in what appears to be a well-kept single room used bookstore, the kind there used to be dozens of in every major city. Books of every type and topic line the shelves, neatly arranged by category, and a long glass display features more delicate items, nineteenth century broadside newspapers and the like, some so fragile they seem on the verge of crumbling into dust. But this is not, Drumbolis warns you as soon as you attempt to take a book off of the shelf, a bookstore: this room is a facsimile, a tribute exhibit to as he calls it, “the fetish object formerly known as The Book.” The real bookstore lies in the chambers beyond this front room, the full catalogues of bygone presses, the one-of-one personal editions he’s assembled over decades of following his personal obsessions, the stacks which crowd his own modest sleeping quarters.

To Drumbolis, the original utility of the book as a container and mediator of information is now effectively passed; virtually every popular book in existence has been digitized, their contents instantly available in formats that are better-indexed, more easily parsed, and more readily transferrable than the humble physical book ever allowed. To desire a book is to desire possession of the thing rather than its contents, this edition, this printing, perhaps this particular copy that once passed through the hands of someone significant. He can show you the copy of John Stuart Mills’ On Liberty that was owned by Canada’s founding father John A. MacDonald, and argue convincingly that this object helped set the course of a nation’s history; or a set of Shakespeare’s complete works bearing Charles Dickens’ ex libris, which sets off a long anecdote about how Dickens liked to troll his houseguests with a collection of fake bookshelves. Drumbolis’s collection is threaded through his life like an old wizard in a fantasy novel whose flesh has fused with the roots of a tree: he eats with his books and he sleeps with them; collecting fuels his arcane research and dictates where and when he travels; 25 years ago he uprooted his life when his collection bade him, and though he’s starved for company in the frozen city it chose for him, he abides.

My own case of collectivitis is not so advanced, though Lord only knows what I’ll be like when I’m Old (I’m currently 47). And despite the conceit of this blog, I’ve seldom spent much time in these reviews dwelling on the physical properties of my records, evaluating the relative merit of pressings and the like (or even mentioning which one I’ve got). But as I sit here listening to my copy of Patti Smith’s Horses for the first time, I feel a small but definite sense of wonderment. It’s an early ‘80s Canadian pressing, so near-mint I might’ve stepped back in time and bought it new, still with what I take to be the original inner-sleeve, pale azure (to match the Arista disc label) with a texture almost like crepe paper.

It’s a delightful, surprising contrast to the iconic black and white cover portrait of Smith by her former paramour Robert Mapplethorpe. Generations of fans have stared at this image as they listened, not simply because Smith is hot (though this is undeniably true) but because the music’s visionary qualities demand an embodied locus. That a record, unlike a book, can speak aloud, has always primitively fascinated me; that this one contains what I can only describe as rituals makes it magical, this physical copy that is unique because it’s this one that is speaking to me in this moment. 

 Smith writes on the back of the sleeve:

“…it’s me my shape burnt in the sky its me the memoire of me racing through the eye of the mer thru the eye of the sea thru the arm of the needle merging and jacking new filaments new risks etched forever in a cold system of wax…horses groping for a sign for a breath…”

“charms, sweet angels,” she concludes. “you have made me no longer afraid of death.” The record becomes an extension of Smith’s body as it existed in that time—I think here of the physicality of the moment in “Break it Up” where you can faintly hear her striking her own chest with the flat of her palm to make her voice quaver. It makes me wonder how anyone could sell this thing once they have it: not because it is particularly rare or difficult to acquire, but because it’s hard for me to imagine the experience of slipping the lustrous black disc from its dressing and setting the needle down upon it as anything but a personal one. It is poetry and waves; the subliming of the idea of a rave-up; Tom Verlaine shedding his earthly mantle in an explosion of birds; John Cale; Kaye, Král, Daugherty, and Sohl; one of my boys from Blue Öyster Cult; the pounding of hooves and the Mashed Potato.

I suppose what I’m describing is a fetish, my pleasure in acquiring these things and writing these reviews the hard and strange work of finding life’s joy in its dusty corners. This year has run through my fingers like water, as it seems they all do now. But on my good days, all these words behind me and the records in front of me seem like a document of abundance.

365/365

[moltengoldveins]

ninjago headcanons I’ve had since like middle school -

Zane identified as Ace before the show even started, and was rather vocal in early Internet forums about his disappointment in ace representation in media being limited to nonhuman characters and robots. This was a pretty weird out of pocket thing for someone to be interested in or know about in the earlier days of the internet, so it didn’t do much for his making friends. Upon realizing that he himself was in fact a robot he spent a solid ten minutes arguing with himself on whether this was a good thing (I have more representation! And a lot of ace rep is technically more accurate for me now!) or a bad thing (I am making the stereotype worse! I have become the very thing I swore to destroy! You were my brother Anakin!)

Cole, alongside dance lessons and cooking classes, took regular piano lessons throughout his childhood. His father’s goal was to give him a sense of rhythm and a taste for classical and dance music. His professor was a blind retired concert pianist who collected records. He took one ‘look’ at this poor harried kid and thought “aw, hell naw.” Secretly, as long as they kept up with Cole’s piano recitals, he let him take naps or play rock music during their classes, and snuck him records out of his collection whenever he could. Cole keeps all his records labeled in braille on a special shelf - Bach concertos and Duke Ellington right next to one another.

Nya is actually really good at makeup, and knows how to cut hair better than most hairstylists. Growing up, it was her job to trim Kai’s hair, since they couldn’t afford to go to a hairdresser. When the ninja were working for rent, she learned to cut Cole and Zane’s hair, although technically Zane didn’t need it. He liked the connection to his personhood, and she liked the practice cutting such coiled hair. Jay let his hair grow out during that time, and it was only later, once it reached his shoulders in lank, greasy curls that Nya firmly sat him down for a trim. She likes looking pretty, not necessarily in an appealing way, but in a frightening one. An unearthly sort of beauty, attained by the carefulist application of concealer and highlighter, eyeshadow and mascara. She can with a small kit take herself from a featureless girl in a crowd to a murderous princess out of a history book and back again, all without changing her clothes, and the other ninja respect her immensely for it.

Pixel and Zane aren’t lovers. Not really, anyway. What do you call the other half of your mind, your heart, your soul? What do you call a woman whose mind is your successor, based on your own neural pathways, while she was the one that made your body? Not a child. Not a parent. Not a sister. They’re more analogous to a single brain with two hemispheres than two individuals. When Zane or Pixel were relegated to a consciousness embedded in the back of the other’s head, that was easier to understand, but now that they’re both free-walking it’s tricky. They’ll sit for hours, after a week or two of separation, and process together, running through each other’s memories, thoughts, copying them wholesale into their own hard drives. Every time they emerge from the link, for the split second where neither of them have thought a single thought, seen a single frame of video routed through metal eyes, they are the same being. They are one. And then they diverge, and spend hours or days or months careening away from one another in spirit as they live divulging lives, experience separate worlds, only to come together again and compare notes. The other ninja have a hard time understanding it, they tend to default to surprise when pixel responds to a joke they assumed only Zane would know the punchline to, but master Wu understands. There was a time where he and his brother lived in each others souls, as much as their own. He is glad not to be alone in that experience.

Lloyd is assumed to be colorblind for a really long time, because he has a hard time distinguishing between what colors count as what categories of color. “This is red,” someone would say, and point at an apple. “This is also red,” someone would point at a piece of fabric, and that was where things would get tricky. “Those look nothing alike!” Lloyd would insist, “the apple looks closer to this color,” he angrily gestured at a green wall, or a blue bag, “than that fabric! I think you’re lying to me.” But it never went anywhere, really. The school for young evil masterminds wasn’t about to buy Lloyd colorblind glasses and for a while he just forgot to tell the ninja at all. they were broke when they found out. By the time it came up again, Lloyd was much older. Kai remembered over a late night conversation, Lloyd rambling quietly on about an old ninjago artist who painted “with the proper fuckin’ colors, man, like damn.” “wait. I forgot. Holy crap, you’re colorblind!” Lloyd paused, as if considering a lie, then shook his head awkwardly. “No, ‘m not. I’ve just got, like… shrimp colors.” “… what?” “shrimp colors. Shrimp can see extra primary colors, we’ve only got three- well. You’ve only got three. I think I’ve got five? Maybe six, it’s surprisingly hard to test.”

This one’s more of a ‘molten thinks, as she does about a lot of things, that The Old Person Polycule Could Fix Things’ than a headcanon really, but Misako Garmadon and Wu should’ve sat down talked it out and just. Formed a polycule. Honestly I don’t Care what that would entail I hate love triangles more than life itself and if given the opportunity I would either hit one member or more of every love triangle with the ace beam or I’d hit the big red Polycule Button ok I hate love triangles so so so much burn it with fire.

on a similar note. Jay/Nya/Cole should either be a polycule or Cole should come to his Grey Ace Realization sometime around his en-ghost-ening and end up with Jay, Nya, and Pix/Zane as QP partners. Honestly, Kai is the only member of the ninja I can comfortably think of as straight and dating Skyler. He’s not above the qp beam ofc - he’s at Least developed a very very close dynamic with Lloyd a few years after his age jump. But at this point the rest of the ninja have held one another together, physically mentally and spiritually, while the world ended around them like eight times. They’re not gonna be Normal Chill Friends about that.

Lloyd’s age jump should be played for visceral body horror and I do not care if you think I’m wrong. That is a child in a man’s body, his limbs are too long, none of his internal organs feel right, his hormones, his digestion, his circulation, everything is drastically different and he can Feel It. He should be awake at all hours because his heart is too loud or too quiet, he should be throwing up because he can feel his stomach digesting things, he should reach out to pick up his favorite mug and crush it into porcelain fragments. His eyesight should be even sharper, his hearing more acute but somehow rounder, duller in some way he can’t quite grasp. He cannot speak without grimacing - his voice sounds wrong. He cannot move without wincing - his muscles itch with how out of place they are. He lashes out at inopportune moments and randomly goes for long runs or violent training sessions and none of the ninja know what to do about the fact that he’s trying to work himself to unconsciousness so he doesn’t have to feel his own limbs.

[yupuffin]

Who wants to hear about how I effectively got paid for being misgendered today? 🤣

Okay, SO, I designated yesterday as a thrift shopping day, since I woke up with the thought that I needed another shelf for my room (storage space for my books as well as for a couple of commissioned cosplay wigs I am expecting in the next few months).

While I was at it, I also snagged an extra pair of pants for casual cosplay use. I wasn't 100% sure what size would be correct, since I am smol(tm), so I made an educated guess based on my measurements and on the last time I did theatre. Alas, while they were good pants and certainly wearable, for all intents and purposes, I discovered once I got home that they were a bit snug, and for me, tight clothes are a Bad Sensory Experience(tm). Thus I elected to return today (thankfully not that far of a drive) and exchange them.

As expected, I had no trouble locating a similar but larger pair of pants for which to exchange them. The catch was that for some reason this particular pair didn't come with a store tag on them? So, figuring they'd probably be roughly the same price due to being almost identical, aside from being in an adult size rather than a children's one, I took them up front and recruited an associate to assist me with not just the exchange but also the pricing on the replacement pair.

It turned out through the exchange process that the price difference was about four dollars, which I then got refunded; this struck me as a bit unusual, since, first, based on the sizing thing I mentioned above, the price would increase, if anything, and second, this being a thrift store, a four-dollar difference was a significant portion of the original price.

But, being socially awkward and far from an expert in retail transactions, I thanked the associate profusely and went along with it, and then departed for my next errand, satisfied with the outcome of the transaction.

It wasn't until I got to my next stop that I happened to check the store tag the associate had put on the new pair of pants during the exchange...

...and it said womens' pants.

(And now I feel even worse, having added another event to the list of times in my life I've, technically speaking, accidentally stolen something. 🤣😅)

[gravitasmalfunction]

Re-reading Look to Windward; it was the only Banks on the shelf at my local library when I was there the other day. [I drafted this post over a month ago and then didn't actually finish it, but my thoughts still stand.]

It's not my first choice for a re-read, and this time around I think it's because I read it quite early on during my personal Culture reading journey, and the bits that stand out to me now would have gone over my head during that initial reading. Which is ironic, because much of the book serves as almost a primer on the Culture mainstream - what it's like to live on an Orbital, the coddled Culture humans' penchant for thrill-seeking and extremes, the societal do-gooding and the individual frivolousness. Kabe the Homomdan "ambassador" and Ziller the Chelgrian celebrity composer are the alien foils for Culture, their outsider points of view accompany whole sections of untagged dialectic to reveal to the reader the Culture as concept. What are the umpteen-trillion inhabitants of this Orbital doing with their day? Well, some of them are doing the sorts of things we see people doing in this book. Like lava rafting. Because why not.

Also, compared to other Culture novels, there is such a dearth of central female characters, and for me personally that makes it more of a slog than any other random Culture novel. One could easily argue that Worosei is a classic case of fridging, except there's more going on than her death being Major ManPain Quilan's motivation. Not only did she die, her soul (her personality state as captured by her Soulkeeper device) was unable to be transferred to heaven (which is real, or rather digital, but is a place that demonstrably exists and was constructed for the purpose). Quilan loved her so much, and that comes through in his memories and flashbacks. She was the one who wanted to enlist, and he enlisted because of her. She was clever and brave and vibrant. To Quilan, she could do no wrong, but from the beginning we know and are told that she signed up to fight the civil war against the revolution. Her self-appointed mission during the war was to rescue the thousands of souls stored in an almost-forgotten archive. Saving souls is good! But they're the souls of old military personnel who volunteered to be revived if needed for war purposes. They're a military asset and a very conservative one to boot, and they're being retrieved to help the conservative side crush the revolution. That's bad. So, Worosei is complicated, flawed, morally ambiguous. She's driving a big part of the plot. She's also really, truly, irretrievably dead. Which is probably for the best, because then she can be idealised as a sort of heroic figure, whereas if the story had spent any more time with her in any other context, we might have seen her doing horrible things unprovoked to her social inferiors in her normal daily life, instead of just seeing her shoot the brains out of an enemy combatant on a battlefield, who just so happened to be her social inferior, but also her literal enemy because of the actual civil war going on.

All that irony was completely wasted on me in my earlier read-throughs.

Similarly, all the irony of the Culture's interfering with the Chelgrians in the first place was lost on me. The concept of the main civilisational sequence, and the mystery of Sublimation, is explored in more depth in other books but it's covered enough here that I ought to have seen the irony going on. The Culture is very clever, right, but in the case of Chel, they have been very, very stupid. And part of that is their massive, gaping blind spot where it comes to the Sublimed.

In other books the Culture is called out as an outlier, a perpetual adolescent of an advanced civilisation, because unlike other mature civs who have spent sufficient time being at the pinnacle of achievement, they have not decided to vacate the Real and their spot in the galactic meta-civilisation by Subliming. Usually a whole civ will decide to do the big ascending to godhood or whatever ineffable new and exciting plane of existence Sublimation takes you to, maybe leaving some remnants behind, but generally bowing out of the big sandbox that is the galaxy en masse. It's possible but rare for individuals to Sublime on their own, easier if the individual concerned is a super-advanced machine intelligence. Culture Minds have sublimed. If one were to make a "perfect" Al, the first thing it would do upon becoming conscious is Sublime. But instead of growing up and getting a real job Subliming, the Culture is determined to stay in this place of existence, meddling with other people's business to try and tip the great moral balance of the galaxy a little farther towards justice. This is why Chel, with its oppressive caste system, becomes a target for the Culture's little interventions.

But the Chelgrians are fucking weird and the Culture should have known better, because the only people who can blithely ignore the common wisdom of don't fuck with the Culture are the Sublimed.

Chel has the Chelgrian-Puen, the Gone-Before, which are the random little fraction of the Chelgrians who got raptured Sublimed way back before their civilisation had even begun to reach the technological peak, and decided to stay in touch with their un-Sublimed counterparts, teach them how to make Heaven, and so on. This makes the Chelgrians triple outliers: how they Sublimed (partially!), when they Sublimed (in their relative civilisational and technological infancy!), and the continuing involvement of their Sublimed counterparts with their source civilisation/species in the Real (basically unprecedented!).

On this one isolated metric, the Chelgrians could be considered even more advanced than the Culture.

What the case of the Chelgrian-Puen reveals is there is no moral perfection aspect to Subliming. The Gone-Before are perfectly content for their source society to continue to be markedly unequal, for the caste system to continue, for some Chelgrians to be allowed to exploit, maim and kill others merely because their social status was circumscribed even before birth to be entitled to such privilege.

It's interesting, then, to see that the Culture's excuse for their botched intervention in Chel is that the Chelgrians are a predator species, and the Culture claims to have failed to accurately accounted for that. I think the Culture is misdirecting through their teeth with this excuse - but that's another post.